I'll Find You
by Gammer
Summary: As Shepard prepares to make the ultimate sacrifice to end the Reaper War a simple three word promise brings an unseen clarity that just might save the entire galaxy.
1. Defiance

I'll Find You

Defiance

Pain. That was only word that registered to Commander James Shepard. His N7 armor was in melted tatters. Save for the faded "n" on the breastplate, it was impossible to imagine the grey matter fused to his body was ever a full set of armor. Standing up straight was beyond him at the moment. Any motion even the thought of motion sent shockwaves of pain running up and down his body. At least what was left to feel of his body. From the waist down he wasn't sure if there was anything left at all. But the fact that he was somehow still on his feet and not crawling meant something was holding him up. His vision had blurred to the point that he could barely make out his own hand clutching on the major wound on his ribs. Shepard glanced down at his hand and despite his vision he could still see the large amount of crimson red seeping through his fingers tips and dripping onto the chrome floor. He could feel blood ooze out from his ears as well. Not a good sign. In all honesty he probably didn't have much time left. But it didn't matter. The walkway before him split into three forks, all he had to do was walk down one and it would all be over. Destroy, fuse, or control. It all boiled down to this.

"You must choose quickly," the boy or rather the Catalyst said. "The Conduit won't last much longer."

Shepard inched forward, his body feeling as though ten krogan had piled onto his shoulders. In only a few steps this war would be over, all they sacrificed all the deaths he saw, it would all be over in only a few steps. It would all end with one final sacrifice. His. In the back of his mind, he somehow knew to end the war would require his life in exchange; try as he might to convince his friends that he would make it out. It made sense. After all, the beacon on Eden Prime that he activated to save Ashley was what started everything. For it to end, he had to go. It was only fair. Shepard smirked at the thought of Eden Prime. If he had been a few seconds slower, Ashley would have been the one to receive the visions. She would have been the one at the head of this war. And she would most likely be here, walking towards the final sacrifice.

"Hurry," the Catalyst urged. "There isn't much time."

Shepard turned his head to face the translucent figure, an action that took all his effort. Impatient little thing, he thought. He hobbled towards the center of the walkway, his choices dancing around in his mind.

Destroy. All synthetic life would eradicated, the reapers especially. But also EDI and the Geth. Shepard closed his eyes and could see Joker and EDI sitting in the club on the Citadel, talking, laughing and dancing together. He remembered Joker's final plea to him to keep EDI safe. He saw the countless times EDI had singlehandedly saved their asses and given them crucial information. He thought of Legion who knowingly sacrificed himself for the sake of his people and the Geth's promise to honor it. He remembered the joy in Tali's voice as she listed off just how helpful the Geth were in helping their people readapt to the planet. He even remembered Legion's final words, the question that set off the entire morning war.

"Does this unit have a soul?"

Yes, they did.

Shepeard took a sharp breath as the pain pulled him back to the present. No, he couldn't destroy everything Legion had sacrificed for. He couldn't betray Joker's final plea to him.

He glanced over at the blazing red platform. Control the reapers. Make them leave. Make them stay in dark space and never terrorize the galaxy again. But the thought of control brought back the image of the Illusive Man. Everything he and Miranda's father did to figure out a way to control the reapers. All those innocent lives destroyed. And for what? A few husks that he, Garrus and Ashley so easily disposed of? Shepard suddenly found himself back in the Collector's Base where the Illusive Man attempted to sell Shepard on the idea of keeping the base for further "study."

"I won't let fear compromise who I am…." Shepard repeated and turned away from the platform.

That only left the emerald green of synthesis. Fuse synthetic and organic life together to create a new species. It was the best option, the best of both worlds. He betrayed no one and left his morals and ideals intact. The reapers would leave because there would no more use for them. All it took was his life. Something he was all too willing to give in exchange for peace. Shepard limped towards the luminous light, mentally listing off goodbyes to his crew mates, his friends, his family. All they went through, all they saw, all they accomplished, he thanked them for it.

"Goodbye, Miranda…" he muttered.

The platform was within an arm's reach.

_Don't say goodbye_, he had said to her. E_verything will change, but it'll be on our terms._

The emerald light consumed his vision. All he had to do was touch the handles to activate the sequence.

_Then finish this Shepard,_ her voice whispered in his ear. He could feel her warm breath dance on his ear drum. _And find me. _

His arms reached out for the platform.

_I will. I promise. _

His arm froze. Inches away from the green light.

"What wrong?" The catalyst asked, its voice rising to the familiar pitch of panic. "You're so close, active the sequence."

"No…" Shepard whispered to himself. This was wrong.

Sense began to flow into his mind, like light clearing the fog on a gloomy day. No matter what he chose, the Mass Relays would be destroyed, stranding everyone who came to help him on Earth. He would be cutting off the galaxy. Earth could not support all those species and people even in its prime, let alone the ravaged world that remained. Starvation would lead to anger, which would lead to violence, which would undo all the good he and his friends had fought so hard for.

"Activate the sequence!" the catalyst exclaimed.

And why was this thing so eager for him to sacrifice himself? Shepard curled his hands into a fist and turned to face the figure.

"No," the spacer said.

"What?"

"I won't choose anything you have to offer. The price is too high." He hobbled back to the center of the walkway.

"This is the only way to end the cycle! This is the only way to stop organics and synthetics from destroying each other!"

"You're wrong!" Shepard yelled. His body convulsed at the effort but the specter pushed forward. "Look around you! Look at what organics and synthetics have accomplished by working together! The quarians have their home world back with the Geth assisting them by bring their immune systems back to speed. My ship's A.I., EDI has done more for the sake of my crew and I than any organic I know! She's had countless chances to betray us but she hasn't. We're her crewmates, her family, she said so herself!"

"You don't understand-!"

Shepard shot an accusatory finger at the floating figure. "The only one who doesn't understand is you! Who the hell do you think you are? You say it's inevitable that organics and synthetics will battle each other and that organic life is chaos, so what do you do? You create an entire army of synthetics to wipe out all organic life? What sense does that make?"

"It was the only way to insure-."

"Insure what? That organics will never be able to figure out how to coexist with synthetics? Insure that synthetics will always be feared by organics? That we'll always be dependent on your little solution because you thought so little of us?"

"That's not what I-!"

"We've proven today we can all fight and die together. We've proven that through all this so-called chaos, harmony between the species can coexist! We've proven that we don't need you or your script! We're free to make to our choice!"

"Shepard!" The catalyst's voice began to deepen to an all too familiar bass. "YOU MUST CHOOSE!"

"Then, I-Choose-FREEDOM!"

At that moment the luminous lights surged, blanketing the room in a mixture of crimson, turquoise, and emerald. The lights flew about the corridor bouncing in every direction Shepard could think of. They quickly branched off into countless individual rays that Shepard almost instantly lost track of. But in a matter of seconds they all converged upon him. The soldier squeezed his eyes shut anticipating worst.

A scream filled the chamber.

But it wasn't his.

Instead of pain, all his felt was warmth.

Shepard slowly opened his eyes and saw a ray of white light shooting out from his body like a prism. The light struck the boy-catalyst who screamed like the Wicked Witch. The boy's image began to melt away, true to form. What was left was the blood red outline of Shepard's favorite Reaper.

"Harbinger," Shepard managed to growl, despite his wounds.

"D-damn you Shepard!" In a flash the image of Harbinger shattered covering the room in a blast that knocked the battered soldier off his feet.

Blood poured out from his wounds, covering the chrome floor in red. From the amount of blood he felt, he didn't have long until he bled out. How he managed this far was a mystery to him. His vision began to fail. All he could see was the bright light that emerged from his chest float closer to him.

The light at the end of the tunnel, the end of the line. Shepard could feel himself chuckle. And here he thought there wouldn't be one.

"Commander Shepard," a low voice muttered.

God?

"Commander James Shepard."

It had to be, no one else would call him by his first name.

"You must rise."

"I….can't….do that…."

"You must."

_Find me. _

Shepard let out a groan and managed to push himself to sit up. In front of him stood not God, but the transparent image of a prothean. Or at least what looked like a prothean.

"Commander Shepard, you have done it," it said. "You have unleashed the true Catalyst."

"The what-?"

"The image you before you, is the true Catalyst. It has taken the form of the species of the previous cycle for your convenience."

"That's….great….?" he managed. He couldn't get a clear view of the image before him, no matter much he squinted, his eyes refused to focus. But sight wasn't important now. "What…just happened? Who…was…that kid…? And more….importantly….can you….destroy the Reapers?"

"That boy was Harbinger's final defense against you Commander. Your….Illusive Man's betrayal of your species gave Harbinger the warning it needed to create this final attempt at indoctrination. It took control of this platform and arranged for the entire scenario you experienced. By playing into your need to save others and guilt of leaving that boy to die, Harbinger attempted to have you kill yourself under the guise of saving the galaxy from the Reaper threat."

"That…was…indoctrination….?"

"Correct. It comes in various shapes and sizes," the image replied. "For you to put up such resistance, you must have a strong will and strong ties holding you to this world."

The image of his crew mates waiting for him flashed before his fading eyes.

"Yeah…something like that." Shepard laid back down on the floor. Sitting up made the room spin. "Can you destroy the Reapers?"

"Yes."

"Good….that's all that matters."

"I have never encountered anyone like you Commander Shepard," the image said as it began to fade away. "I truly hope you are not the last."

The light began to consume him as Shepard closed his eyes once more. Anderson had been right, it felt like years since had just sat down. No Reapers, No Collectors, No Saren to worry about, just laying back and enjoying the quiet.

It felt…nice.

He had to do it again sometime.

But not yet.

There was someone he needed to find first.

AN: So if you're like me, you finished Mass Effect 3 and was very satisfied with the game until the last five minutes which pretty much derailed everything you and your Shepard accomplished. And if you're like me you wondered why the hell it ended the way it did after all the good Shepard had done and accomplished. And so this fanfiction was born. This is Shepard/Miranda because well, her romance arc was always my favorite in the games and really wished she had a bigger role in ME3. The "Find Me" bit of dialogue is from the game, it's right before you make that run to the final mission and have a chance to talk to your squad to say goodbye. There's a comm channel somewhere that allows you to talk to your old ME2 squad. I missed it on my first play through and found it on youtube. The dialogue between Shepard and Miranda tugged on my heartstrings so much and there's so little /Miranda fics that I had to write this bit.

I hope my version of the end didn't Jump the Shark or was too over the top. I just found it ridiculous that the final three choices were the only ones available. Plus I've read a lot of "it's all a dream/indoctrination" theories that it seemed to work for the story.

Anyways might make a second chapter to show the aftermath and everything. After that not sure. But anyways, thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought it.


	2. Results

I'll Find You

Results

He was falling. Darkness surrounded him, his vision all but spent, and no ground appeared in his sight but there was no mistaking that all too familiar feeling of falling, his stomach rising up his body, his chest being pushed backwards, and the strong, inescapable tug of gravity. He had felt it before when the Normandy was destroyed, which sent him falling to abyss that was space. Back then he struggled till he lost his breath. He had looked for some way to pull himself out of the planet's gravitational pull or to somehow signal the escape pods that he was out there still alive. But before he knew it he had exhausted all the air in his suit. He could still remember that moment where his limbs began to slow to a halt. His heart had begun its final decrescendo to silence and his mind began to fade. But even then he still believed he could fight. He still believed there was a way out. Here in this strange darkness, Shepard found no strength, none of that indomitable will he had somehow gotten infamous for.

He was just so _tired_.

OOOOO

Chaos was the only word Miranda Lawson could think to describe the current situation. The Crucible had connected with the Citadel almost twenty minutes ago yet nothing had activated. All parties involved had known the plan was a longshot as no one had been sure just what the Crucible was supposed to do, but something should have happened by now. Meanwhile Reaper fighters pounded against their exposed ship. The crew had learned the hard way that the Crucible turrets were out of sync had a slow rate of fire, and were too close together to cover the entire ship. A weakness the Reapers were all too willing to exploit.

"Reaper fighters incoming on our flank!" cried ensign Richard.

"The _Lincoln_ is requesting reinforcements, it can't keep up the pressure!" announced another ensign, Stevens.

"Miss Lawson, Admiral Hackett is requesting our status!" Richard said.

The deck shook as Reaper fire hailed against the hull. The various status screens flared to life describing various levels of damage around the ship. The ensigns fingers sprinted across their display boards trying to level the commotion, each exclaiming the status of the ship. But Miranda didn't need a computer or an ensign to know they were in trouble.

"Has he tried to reach Commander Shepard?" she asked, her fingers running across her keyboard, hailing the engineering crew on the lower decks.

"There's some kind of jammer blocking the Commander's frequency," Richard said. "He's been out of contact for several minutes now."

A spark of worry and dread slowed her typing for a brief moment, but a quick breath cleared it. Worrying wouldn't get the Reapers off their backs or get Shepard back to her.

"Send me the jamming code and I'll see what I can do with it," she commanded the ensign. "Divert non-critical power to the rear turrets. It won't do much but it'll keep us in this for a little while longer."

"Yes ma'am."

A notification buzz on her screen caught her eye. She quickly answered the hail while looking over the near implausible Reaper jamming code. Jacob's light brown face appeared on her screen. Behind him the former Cerberus engineers and scientists scrambled below deck keeping the drive core and other technical aspects of the ship intact.

"Jacob," she said, her eyes not leaving the Reaper code. "What's the Crucible's status? Why isn't it firing?"

"You're guess is as good as mine Miranda," he replied. "My people are doing everything in their power just to keep this ship in on piece. Maybe Hackett's right and it's something on Shepard's end on the Citadel."

"Commander Shepard is out of contact," she said.

"What? What happened to him? Is he all right?"

"His status is unknown at this point. I'm attempting to break some Reaper jamming code that maybe be blocking his comm frequency but it's unlike anything I've seen before."

Despite the chaos, Jacob managed a chuckle. "Where's Tali when you need her?"

"She's doing her part on the ground. We need to do ours up here. Do what you can to keep us in orbit; I'll try to figure this out."

"Got it. Be careful Miranda."

"No promises."

The screen faded to black signaling the end of the call, leaving Miranda with what looked terabytes of code to figure in under a few minutes.

"Reaper flagship incoming!" Stevens announced

Scratch that, a few seconds.

Her eyes ran up and down the code taking as much in as she could. From what she could tell the code was similar to the types that the Collectors and the geth had used. But far more advanced and with very little room to maneuver. Firewalls, seek and destroy programs and false openings stopped all her attempted probes. Miranda gritted her teeth and tried once more. The image of Shepard surrounded by enemies with no way out entered her mind, making her fingers move even faster. The alert radar blared indicating that the flagship had begun targeting them. All around her the soldiers and the ensigns activated the defense measures. Dreadnaughts swooped towards the approaching flagship covering it with heavy fire. But they could only hold it off for so long. They needed the Crucible, whatever it did. They needed Shepard.

"Shepard…where are you?" she muttered.

A bright flare and a rumble on the deck brought Miranda back to the task and told her all she needed to know. The dreadnaughts had failed. She glanced out the window and saw only rubble floating in space where the three dreadnaughts had once been. A bright crimson light began to gather around the Reaper flagship. The soldiers stood frozen, their mouths agape at the sight of death itself before them. They were out of time. Everything they had sacrificed, everything they went through, it all came up to nothing. Miranda could only close her eyes and wait.

"Ori, Shepard…I'm sorry."

"Miranda!" she heard Jacob shout. "Miranda, are you seeing this?"

"Jacob, gallows humor hardly seems appreciate at the moment," she said simply.

"Not that!" Jacob exclaimed. "The drive core, it just lit up like a Christmas tree!"

As if on cue, the Crucible sprang to life. A pristine glare lit up every computer screen and keyboard on the deck. Numbers and symbols ran up and down the screens like a steady rain while the rotation of gears echoed across the room. Notifications from the various levels of the ship piled onto Miranda's computer screen all indicating every device on their decks had activated without their knowledge.

"Incoming!" cried a soldier.

The crimson blast from the Reaper rocketed towards them, engulfing their vision in red. Miranda braced herself against her desk for the impact but it never came. The deck vibrated for a brief moment but after a few seconds all was still. The ensigns glanced at each other as if checking if they were all still alive.

"Damage report!" she shouted, snapping the crew out of their stupor. Miranda rubbed down a growing vein on her forehead. The crew of the Normandy would have never allowed themselves to freeze up that way. It was times like this Miranda actually missed Joker. His crass attitude, insubordination and constant sarcasm took a toll on her nerves but when he said he was the very best pilot the Alliance had to offer, that was one of the few instances where the handicapped pilot was dead serious. She had seen him handle the Normandy in ways she never thought were possible and take on the worst abominations the Reapers and Collectors could throw at them all without losing his trademark jokes. As she watched the ensigns under her command scramble to figure out what was happening, she allowed her eyes to drift to the window in the hopes of catching at least a glimpse of the frigate.

"Ms. Lawson," a nearby ensign, Charles exclaimed. "No significant damage to the Crucible."

"Explain," Miranda said. "We took a full blast from a Reaper cannon. How are we not damaged?"

"Frankly ma'am, is that really something you wish to question?"

Miranda folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at the ensign, causing beads of sweat to form on his brow. A quick gulp and a salute was his response.

"I will look into right away ma'am."

"Ms. Lawson, we have a situation with the power cells."

Miranda made her way to the console. "Were they damaged from the attack?"

"No ma'am just the opposite, their levels are actually increasing."

"What? That can't be right."

"See for yourself ma'am."

On the screen the bars signifying the amount of element zero and other resources within the power cells skyrocketed. They had increased a solid 50% higher than they were prior to the Reaper attack. Miranda read over the report five more times trying to take in the contradictory information before her. Every solid substance than had gotten even within a yard of the blasts from a Reaper flagship had always been disintegrated. No amount of shielding could properly protect a ship from that kind of fire. Miranda knew for a fact that the Crucible shields weren't highest grade either. So what had protected them? What was different?

"Ms. Lawson! The flagship is charging up another blast!"

"Miranda!" she heard Jacob cry from her consul. "We got a problem! The drive core is overheating! We need lose some energy and fast!"

Miranda looked between the consul and the display view of the Reaper. The sudden activity of the Crucible, the blast from the Reaper flagship, the surge in power, it all had to be connected somehow. Miranda took a deep breath and hoped she was right about this hunch.

"Return fire," she ordered. "Aim for the flag ship."

"Are you sure ma'am?" Stevens asked. "Our attacks have been nothing but flea bites to that thing."

"It's a risk we have to take," she said simply. "Prepare the turrets."

On the display screens the crosshairs closed in on the nearby Reaper. The monster's crimson energy gathered as it prepared its own attack.

"30 seconds till impact!" Richard announced.

"Aim for the cannon," Miranda said. "According the reports on Rannoch, they're at their most vulnerable before they fire."

"Target locked."

Miranda narrowed her eyes and took a breath. It was now or never. "Fire."

With that order the turrets drummed against the hull of the ship in a harmony that Miranda had not seen prior. The abyss of space lit up with pristine white bolts. They crossed the distance between the Crucible and the Reaper flagship in a matter of seconds. The bolts hammered against the cannon of the flagship. Explosions ran up and down the monster like a swarm of insects. Nearby frigates dreadnaughts joined in the fray, covering the Reaper with their blasts. A meager blast from the Reaper that only struck against the Crucible's shields was its only counter before the blasts and explosions became too much. The Reaper let out one last mechanical cry before being consumed by the blasts. The abysses lit up once more into a bright orange-red light as the Reaper blew into countless pieces.

Miranda and her crew stared the monitor, their mouths agape and their breaths forgotten. Four words ignited the deck into victorious cries.

"Destruction of Reaper confirmed!"

Miranda closed her eyes and allowed herself to breathe. It wasn't all for nothing after all. But they weren't out this just yet.

"Connect me to Admiral Hackett!" she ordered over the crew's excitement.

The aged veteran's chiseled featured appeared on her monitor. Behind him the crew on the main deck seemed just as excited as hers. She couldn't blame them but there were still thousands more Reapers to deal with around Earth's orbit alone.

"Ms. Lawson," Hackett nodded. "I trust you've looked out the viewing screen."

"Yes admiral and that's what I wished to discuss with you."

Another rumble and the deck reminded her to keep the call short.

"A brief discussion I hope," Hackett said, looking over his shoulder at the crewmen preparing for the next attack.

"I believe how the Crucible destroyed the Reaper was no accident," Miranda said getting straight to the point. "I believe this ship is actually fueled by the energy output of Reaper ships and fires it back at them."

Hackett's hand passed over his goatee. "That's a bold statement Ms. Lawson."

"I'm aware of that but the evidence fits. The ship took a direct shot from that flagship but somehow survived and afterwards our power readings went off the chart. Furthermore in all the plans we've managed to translate it never said anything about a last power source. The drive core that we installed only brought the Crucible up to 65%."

"If that's the case then why was it never completed in previous cycles?"

"I'm not sure, I have several theories none which I am able to prove."

"No need to worry about that Ms. Lawson. This entire operation has been based on theory and conjecture. But even if what you say is true, putting the Crucible on the front lines is quite the risk. There's no doubt the Reapers will catch on."

"I understand but at this point it has to be all or nothing. The Reapers won't give us a second chance."

"A valid point, Ms. Lawson, we'll take some hits but it wouldn't be a war if we didn't. I'll bring the Crucible to the front and hope you're not wrong."

_I'm never wrong_ pressed against her lips but she bit it down, settling for a mere nod of agreement.

"Was there anything else Ms. Lawson?"

_Where's Shepard?_ The question scratched at her in the forefront of her mind. It had been over five hours since he had last contacted her and another two since his communicator went offline. She had been playing out countless scenarios in her head for the longest time, all of which involved finding Shepard's mangled body among the rubble that was Earth. For the sake of the mission she had done what she had always done and buried those feelings. But now she felt them clawing their way back up. She needed to be professional; playing the worried girlfriend role wouldn't help Earth. But still if anyone knew of Shepard status it would be Hackett.

"Ms. Lawson?"

"What's the situation on the ground?"

Hackett sighed. "Stable but we're steadily losing ground. The Reapers seem to have endless troops at their disposal. But if you're right, this will give us the advantage we need to end this war."

"Understood."

"Hackett out."

The image faded out and Miranda brought up the list of frequencies used by Alliance soldiers on the ground. Countless codes and numbers flashed before, but Miranda swiped through them with professional expertise until she found Shepard's frequency. Underneath it still read "frequency offline." She sighed unsure what else she had been expecting. A total of seven hours out of contact in a battle scenario, it was time to assume the worst. Miranda mentally shook her head at the thought. Shepard was alive. He was still fighting as he always had. When this was all over, he would find his way back to her. He had to.

"Miss Lawson!" Ensign Charles said, catching her attention. "The Crucible is moving towards the front lines. ETA four minutes."

Miranda took a breath to regain herself. "Acknowledged. Be ready for anything."

"Yes ma'am."

_Shepard_, she thought as the legion of Reapers grew closer. _Stay alive_

AN: Sorry this update took so long, school, work and the like kept getting the way. Plus an overall lack of direction. But I fixed that for the most part. This was actually my first time writing Miranda, she's my favorite ME female so I hope I portrayed her all right. Anyways thanks for reading and be sure to tell me what you think.


	3. Extraction

I'll Find You

Extraction

Miranda jerked in her seat as another Reaper blast collided. The Crucible returned fire in full, the turrets ripping apart the monster's armor and shielding. Geth fighter ships swooped towards the damaged Reaper and reduced it to floating junk. Her panel shrieked when five more Sovereign-class Reapers broke away from the Earth's orbit to engage them. Four quarian ships and eight Alliance dreadnaughts shot towards the approaching demon to hold it off. Miranda quickly gave orders to her crew to fire off the turrets to support them. As the ensigns scrambled to obey, Miranda brought up the galaxy map on her panel.

Ever since the Crucible activated, the battle had taken a much needed turn in their favor. From the reports she had received from the other ships, the Crucible had done far more than she hypothesized. Absorbing and reflecting Reaper energy had just been the start. The Crucible had disabled the Reaper's shields and degraded their armor to almost conventional levels. Their ships could now damage and destroy them without waiting for the Reapers to fire, costing them valuable ships and lives when the attacks failed. The Reapers were now somehow slower as well. Miranda theorized that the Crucible had scrambled the processing speed. It had only slowed them by only a few choice seconds but Miranda knew all too well that seconds were equivalent to hours in combat. In the time it took for the Reapers to make a turn or to return fire at them, their ships could hammer it down five times over.

Reports from the ground were a growing positive as well. Each Reaper destroyed was the destruction of the Reaper signal, which disabled the troop transporters and the processing pods. Better yet, the destruction of the signal nullified most husks and cannibals, giving the soldiers a stronger offensive push. Miranda wasn't an optimist in any sense of the word but even she had to admit that she could finally see some light at this end of this long nightmare filled tunnel. Yet, Miranda couldn't shake the feeling of something missing. Or rather someone.

"Ms Lawson!" ensign Charles called from his monitor, his voice pulling her out her brooding thoughts. "I've located Commander Shepard!"

"What!" She cried out far too loudly and with much more inflection than she intended.

"I said I've located Commander Shepard."

Miranda's heels hit the chrome floor like a snare drum as she made her way towards Charles' screen. "Explain," was all she could bring herself to say without exposing her emotional state.

"I don't really understand it myself ma'am," he said, bring up the Reaper code. "My best guess, the Crucible must have weakened the jamming signal that was blocking our communications. With it gone I've managed to zero in on the Commander's omni-tool. However, I can't establish a connection."

"It's better than where we were previously," Miranda said. "What his status?"

Charles bit his lips. "According to his metabolic scans….not well…."

"Where is he?" Miranda asked, the unintentional edge not leaving her voice.

"Nowhere on the Citadel I've been," Charles said as he brought up the map. "He's on one of the lowest levels, where only the keepers go."

"Is it accessible through the Crucible?"

"An access port can bring a squad of four there in approximately six minutes."

One glance at Shepard's vital signs told Miranda he didn't have six minutes. "Make it a squad of two."

"Understood ma'am, I'll contact Admiral Hackett to assemble the team."

"No, I'll assemble it myself; Hackett has enough to worry about."

"Ma'am I'm not sure if you're authorized to-" But Miranda was already at her console hailing Jacob's frequency. The comm. Channel buzzed several seconds longer than Miranda would have liked. In what seemed like two years, Jacob finally answered. He started a greeting but he barely got two syllables out before Miranda cut in.

"We've located Shepard," she said. "I'm sending you his location now, find another squad member and get to the access port."

"Does Hackett know about this?"

Miranda felt as though a small flare went off in her stomach at the question. Her hand slammed on the console keyboard before she could stop herself. "Damn it, this no time to be caught in procedure!"

Despite having a monitor and three lower decks between them, Jacob still flinched at her outburst. Whether or not that was worrisome was a matter for another time. Her hand passed over her forehead trying to ease whatever flare had set off in her. If she couldn't control herself crew morale and the mission would be in jeopardy. Miranda took a breath before facing Jacob, the flare died down but she could still feel it flickering within her, just waiting for another opportunity to go off.

"All right, I get it Miranda," Jacob said. "I'll find Shepard."

Miranda sighed. Whether out of relief or something else, she wasn't sure. "Thanks."

"I'll get one of my people to join up. We'll be at the access port in two minutes."

"Be sure to hurry," Miranda said. "And Jacob…."

"Yeah?"

She opened her mouth but the words were unwilling to move. In all honesty she didn't know what she wanted to say. Her eyes dropped down to her hands only to see that she had been unconsciously rubbing them against each other in the same manor Tali did. She bit her lip and had to nearly scream internally for the ability to speak to return.

"I…just…"

To his credit, Jacob managed to catch on to her meaning. "I'll bring him back to you. I give you my word as soldier."

"Thank you."

A curt nod from Jacob was all he needed to end the transmission. When his image faded, Miranda leaned against her seat as if she had just finished running another one of father's ridiculous endurance tests. She could feel another vein form on her brow and face for whatever reason was rather flush. She wanted to accredit it to the stress of the battle, but she knew the real reason, if her outbursts were any indication.

"Ms. Lawson!" ensign Charles exclaimed. "We have a situation!"

Miranda barely contained a groan. "What is it?"

"Harbinger has broken off from Earth's orbit! It's heading straight for us ma'am!"

In an instant, Miranda jolted out of her relaxed state and plunged back into her console screen. She brought up the galaxy map and sure enough Harbinger was approaching with several dozen Reapers at its flank. It must have realized the impact the Crucible had on the recent destruction of the Reapers and was ready to take out the source of their new strength. Miranda made a fist. Without the Crucible they would be lost. This needed every resource they had.

"Get me Admiral Hackett immediately!" she said.

"Yes ma'am!"

One last hurdle and this whole ordeal would be over.

Miranda could only hope she wouldn't be facing the end alone.

OOOOO

The smell of rotting and burning flesh was a smell a soldier could never forget. To describe it in words was a feat no language could accomplish. Jacob had known many soldiers, himself included, who would never be able to get the smell removed from their memories. But perhaps the most troubling truth of all was the fact that Jacob was slowly getting to used to it.

The depths of the Citadel looked more like a slaughter house than interlocking tunnels the keepers used to travel around the structure. Bodies of countless refuges were piled on top of each other, their blood and innards joining together in a crimson river that flowed down to the walkway. The keepers moved through the bodies with a disturbing precision, carrying the corpses between different piles while running scans. In the back of his mind, Jacob wondered if this was true function of the keepers.

Jacob must have kept his gaze longer than he expected when his partner Hendricks nudged him. "How can you even look at this…..abomination…?"

Jacob glanced at him, noticing the trail of bile on the corner of his mouth. "Compared to what went on at Eden Prime and the Collector Base, this almost merciful," he said finally turning away. "Almost."

"Let's just find the Commander and get out here," the young soldier said. "This place is giving me the creeps."

"Agreed." He activated the comm channel on his onmi-tool. "We're in position Archer, how far are we from Shepard?"

"Continue down your current path and he should be near the control panel," the doctor said.

"Understood, keep this channel open and let us know about any developments on your end."

"Rodger that."

"Let's move out."

They moved at a swift but careful pace. Jacob took point with Hendricks keeping an eye on the rear and Archer warning them of any keeper movement. It wasn't a perfect squad in any sense of the word. Hendricks was one of the few Cerberus escapees who could handle a gun but he still required much more training and conditioning. Too often his aim was off and he had a tendency to panic. But he always had good intentions and would never leave a squad mate behind no matter how scared he was.

Gavin Archer was another story. Jacob would have sooner put the bullet Shepard promised him in his torso than have him join his people. But between Brynn's insistence and Archer's regret for Project Overlord, Jacob really couldn't say no and leave him to the Cerberus assassins. It's what Shepard would do, he thought. Archer had insisted on being their mission control for this assignment. In his words, saving the man who saved David was very least he could do in repentance. Jacob was in no position to say otherwise. But he had told Brynn to keep an eye on the doctor.

"You should be approaching the control panel now," Archer said.

An easy climb up a ramp brought them to the control panel and within sight of three bodies. The first was the Illusive Man. The exit wound in his temple made it clear as to how he died. Jacob scoffed, a feeling of disappointment rising in him. Suicide, the coward's way out, and far too easy a death for all the bad karma he'd built up over the years. But maybe in a way it exposed him to what he truly was underneath all that human supremacy bullshit, just a coward who had surrounded himself with cheap words.

"Jacob!" Hendricks called. "It's Anderson and Shepard!"

Jacob rushed over to the rookie's side. Anderson sat upright, a gunshot wound in his torso and countless other wounds dotted his body. His dipped head, closed eyes, and peaceful expression could easily be mistaken for slumber. But there was no denying the lack of pulse or heartbeat. Jacob could only hang his head and say a brief prayer for the deceased. He hadn't been acquainted with the admiral personally, but he knew about his struggles to bring the message of the Reapers to the public. And that the man never wavered in his support for Shepard or his principles. If there ever was a true champion of humanity, David Anderson had been it.

"Hendricks, is Shepard breathing?"

"Barely," Hendricks replied. "It's bad Jacob…"

"Shepard! Shepard!" he said, shaking the commander. "It's Jacob, come on, we have to get you out of here. Come on Shepard, don't do this!"

"Jacob… I think he's-,"

"Medi-gel, now!"

Hendricks passed his omni-tool over the commander's mangled body. The rookie had been right, it didn't look good at all. The salve closed a good portion of Shepard's wounds but that was only part of the equation. Jacob pressed his fingers on the commander's neck. A pulse welcomed him, but it was slow and only getting slower.

"Grab an arm rookie; we're getting him out of here!"

Jacob just barely took a step when the entire floor shook below him. The sudden motion startled the keepers into hiding and brought Jacob down to his knees. The former marine groaned and checked to see if both Shepard and Hendricks were all right.

"Archer," he called. "What the hell was that?"

"A…complication…" the doctor said. "Harbinger has caught on to the Crucible and is currently engaged with the main fleet. And to make matters worse, it has dispatched several ground troops to your location."

Jacob growled. Nothing was ever easy. "Looks like we'll be seeing some action after all Hendricks. Grab the commander and follow me, we need to get as close to the access port as we can before those Reaper troops hit us."

The rookie slung Shepard on his shoulders and gave Jacob a nod. The two dashed down the ramp, their guns drawn and eyes peeled. Jacob only wished they could bring Anderson's body back with them too. Hopefully they would return. If not…he had a promise to fulfill for Miranda first and foremost.

They didn't get far before Jacob heard an all too familiar sound. The zombie-like cry that announced the arrival of the husks, which made Jacob halt their advance. Before he could signal for cover, he saw them climb up the pillars like a swarm of cockroaches. There had to be at least twenty of them in all. Their out of sync moaning and groaning converged into an unsettling chorus that echoed through the chamber.

Jacob drew his pistol and with four shots took down three still climbing the pillar. But the rest climbed onto the platform and made their signature mad dash towards him. The former operative quickly switched to his shotgun. The moment it had extended to its full size, the chamber echoed with sounds of his shells striking the vermin. By the time he needed to reload, nine laid dead, but their brethren only passed over them.

Three jumped the distance between them. Jacob rolled forward and whipped out his pistol. As the creatures turned around they were met with shots between their eyes. But the movement had cost him his footing, making him vulnerable to the hoards of husks that remained. Jacob scrambled to his feet as seven more husks rushed towards him. Six wild shots from Hendricks only hit two in their arms and didn't slow them down at all.

An azure aura flared around Jacob as he activated his biotics. A blast of blue energy surrounded the charging monsters, making them as weightless as paper in the wind. A simple gesture from Jacob made them fly in his direction and smash against the pillars and walls. Still more made their way across the platform.

Azure blue surrounded Jacob and solidified around his body. The shield monitor on his jumpsuit confirmed that his barrier had fired correctly. The moment he looked up a husk filled his field of vision. Instinctively Jacob held up his shotgun, catching its first two swipes. The operative slammed his knee into the creature's torso and smashed the butt of his shotgun into its face. The moment it fell five more rushed to take its place and his barrier didn't protect against melee attacks. They wouldn't be getting anywhere this way.

"Hendricks!" he shouted as he emptied six more shells into the creatures. "Throw a charge at the pipes!"

The rookie fired off another wild shot that only caused a husk to limp. "What!"

"Just do it damn it!"

"If you say so!" The rookie fumbled with his gun and Shepard on his shoulders as he tried to pull out his supply of grenades. Meanwhile the husks were only increasing in number while Jacob's thermal clips were dropping. Another biotic pull cleared the path of another eight husks. But more only climbed up the pillars.

"Hurry up damn it!"

"I got it!" he announced holding up the charge. "Get clear!"

Jacob fired off one last round before sprinting towards the rookie. The husks followed full force. The entire swarm almost took up the entire walkway. Jacob nodded and Hendricks hurled the charge at the pristine white pipes above. Only a few seconds later an explosion nearly deafened Jacob as it echoed through the small chamber. The pipes dropped like a cave-in, crushing all husks dumb enough to be under it and blocking whatever husks had yet to cross. When the smoke cleared only a pile of rubble remained.

Jacob allowed himself a sigh of relief. But they weren't done just yet.

"Good thinking," Hendricks said.

Jacob waved off the rookie. "Compliment me when we get out of here."

"Right…"

"Archer, this way is a no go. Is there any other way back to the access port?"

"Double back to the control panel and take the pathway on the left. It should take you to the south entrance."

"All right, contact Miranda and tell her to send an access port there."

"I hope this is our only detour," Hendricks said as he fell into step with Jacob. "I don't think the commander will be able to last for long."

"Don't say that!" Jacob barked. "Shepard is no weakling. If anyone can pull through it'll be him."

"O-of course."

Jacob sighed and could only hope Shepard didn't make him a liar.

Thankfully it didn't take long for them to double back and redirect their exit. But the new direction didn't change the scenery at all. The pathway was still overflowing with corpses. Jacob had to stop himself from looking at them for too long lest he recognize some of them. Instead he looked over his shotgun. He only had enough thermal clips for 12 shots, 30 for his pistol. Not much but with any luck the path before them would be a straight shot. If not….

At the end of the walkway, Jacob could see the access port extend towards the chamber. He had to give it to Miranda; even in the Alliance she could get fast results.

"Jacob, the commander needs another dose of medi-gel," Hendricks said.

"Come on Shepard, stay with us. Just a few more steps," he said, applying the salve. "We still need to spill some drinks together remember?

A soft groan escaped the commander's lips. Jacob wanted to believe he heard him on some level but there was no way to be sure without a proper doctor.

"Jacob! Are you there Jacob! Come in!" Archer's hasty voice shouted.

Jacob already knew the news wouldn't be good. "Another complication, Archer?"

"They're heading you're way!"

"How? We blocked the last passage, how can they-."

A loud shrill shriek was his answer. Jacob could only watch as a banshee floated up onto the platform with over thirty cannibals being carried within its biotic shield. The banshee dropped them onto the platform with another shriek before firing a blast of biotic energy.

"Hendricks, down!" he shouted. The rookie just barely escaped the path of the blast by taking cover behind a nearby pillar. Jacob rolled behind a nearby platform and fired at least ten shots from his pistol. The hunchbacks of the cannibals made for good targets. The monsters took notice of him and focused their fire towards his position. Hendricks attacked with a few shots that managed to take down two cannibals but they were the least of their problems. The banshee's shrill cry sounded off as it fired another blast.

Jacob activated another biotic pull, clearing at least eight cannibals. But the rest only increased their fire. Hendricks hurled another charge into the fray. The brief but powerful explosion took out another eight or nine but they didn't seem to notice. After a few more bursts of fire, Jacob was out of thermal clips for his pistol. The former operative quickly switched to his shotgun.

"Damn it Archer!" he yelled into his comm. "Isn't there any other way off this heap?"

"I'm sorry but no! You've got to make this one work, Jacob!"

Jacob lit up the dark corridor with several shotgun blasts but before long it was nearly empty. "Isn't there anything else you can do?!"

"I'm trying but-! My God….Jacob be alert there's more coming on your flank!"

"What!"

As if on cue another shrill cry sounded. The banshee emerged from around the corner, blasts already firing. Jacob rolled out of the way and fired off a shot. The attack struck the former asari's armored skin but had no real effect. Behind him, shots from the cannibals slammed against his shields, weakening them every second. Jacob activated his barrier to give him some time but the banshee set off an explosion of biotic energy that tore apart his defense. The soldier stumbled back, defenseless as the cannibals shots pounded against his exposed back. Hendricks set down the commander and attempted cover fire.

Jacob made a dash for the platform. But before he knew it, another blast knocked his legs from under him. It felt as if he had just been hit by 24 bats at the same time. The soldier could only groan as the banshee grabbed him by his neck and hoisted him up, shrieking the entire time. Hendricks fired at the creature but the shots that landed didn't even phase it. A mere sweep of its hand knocked the rookie against the far wall. He slumped down an unconscious heap.

His vision blurred and Jacob could barely feel below his neck. His ears were overwhelmed by the banshee's shrieks. The monster raised its sharp talons over his torso. Jacob couldn't find the strength to resist. Brynn, his child, Miranda, he would never see them again. The soldier managed to get one last look at Shepard. At least he wouldn't be alone at the bar.

The banshee pulled back its arm and thrust its talons towards him. But over its shrieking, Jacob managed to hear the sound of a shotgun going off. In an instant the monster's head was nothing but a collection of destroyed flesh and innards. Another shotgun blast tore through its body, sending packets of skin flying onto Jacob's jumpsuit. An extremely powerful pair of hands ripped Jacob away from the crumpling creature and slung him onto its shoulders, all the while firing at the remaining cannibals.

Jacob shook his head trying to figure out what had just happened. His rescuer placed him next to the unconscious Hendricks and Shepard before engaging the cannibals with an all too familiar laugh.

"Heh heh heh….Reaper tech or not, these asari are just way too squishy for fights," he heard his rescuer say to no one.

Jacob's eyesight began to clear and he saw who he owed his life to. The sliver armor and lizard-like features being dead giveaways.

"G-Grunt?" Jacob managed over the sounds of the krogan's assault rifle. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The krogan let out a triumphant laugh as he dropped another ten cannibals, before offering his hand. "Saving your sorry ass Jacob, what's it look like?"

Jacob smirked and took his former teammate's hand. In a single tug, he was back on his feet. He didn't have his gun but he wasn't out of the fight yet.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," the tank-born said. He turned to Shepard and Hendricks. "I'll grab Shepard, you take this young one."

Jacob complied. "What are you planning to do?"

Grunt slung Shepard over his shoulder. "Bust out of here. Stay close…if you can."

"Grunt there's a banshee out there! How are you going to deal with that?"

"The way I deal with most things…plow through it!"

With a savage roar, Grunt vaulted over cover and plunged head first into the fray. He swung his short arm like a club knocking cannibals off the walkway. Shots from the remaining monsters rained down on Grunt but other than making him flinch they didn't bother the charging krogan. Seconds later Grunt paid them back in full with shots of his Claymore. Eight more converged upon him trying hold him for the banshee to attack but Grunt broke through them like a wall made of plaster. The moment he emerged he was greeted by a biotic blast from the banshee. The krogan slid back and took a knee, his blood already oozing out from his new wound. A growl escaped his lips as the banshee continued to shriek.

"You want to play you over-sized varren?" Grunt muttered. "Fine, let's play!"

The two creatures sounded off with their respective roars before closing the distance. Blasts continued to pound Grunt but the tank-bred kept charging. His Claymore tore through the banshee's barrier in only three shots but the monster didn't seem fazed either. The banshee pulled back its arm for another attack, but Grunt made his move. He sprang forward, plunging his shoulder deep into the creature's chest cavity. Grunt's sheer weight and momentum was enough to knock it off its feet and fly back several yards. The banshee cried out as it struggled to right itself. Grunt let out his signature laugh before retrieving his Claymore and thrusting the muzzle into the creature's mouth.

"Shut up." A single pull of his trigger and the inner materials of the banshee's brain sprayed across the floor. "Jacob! You still alive back there?"

Jacob shook his head at the carnage before him. He had seen Grunt in action during the Collector mission but new born krogan back then was nothing compared to matured and vicious krogan before him. But then on Tuchanka it was either improve or die, he figured. As they made their way into the access port, Jacob could only be grateful that he could call this force of destruction a friend.

AN: Sorry for the delay, I took some time off to play through the Extended Cut. I thought it was ok…much better than the original ending but I still felt it was lacking. I really don't see why they couldn't just add in a cut scene where Shepard is reunited with his love interest. Honestly that's all I wanted. Maybe they'll add more, who knows. Anyways this chapter was my first gun battle fight sequence. I hope I did ok. If not let me know how I can improve. Also hope no one was too OOC. More to come soon.


	4. Destruction (Phase 1)

I'll Find You

Chapter 4: Destruction (Phase 1)

Admiral Steven Hackett could only watch as another dreadnaught was reduced to an amalgam of scrap by the advancing Reaper line. Explosions blasted around his viewing monitor, making it difficult to surmise any type of progress being made. Harbinger had entered the fray almost an hour ago in an attempt to destroy the Crucible, but so far the monster had lingered in the rear, content to have the other Reapers hammer away at their forces and the Crucible. Hackett could only hypothesize that if Reapers could feel pride, then Harbinger wanted the pleasure of delivering the final blow to the Crucible itself. A conjecture that, in all likelihood, was far off the mark but the admiral didn't have the luxury of figuring out a more accurate explanation.

Four squads of geth fighter ships swooped past the viewing screen, engaging a burst of Oculus that had broken through the left flank. A turian frigate supported by four quarian ships advanced to defend the break in the flank. Four Sovereign class Reapers opened their claws to charge an attack at the turian frigate. The quarian ships fired at the brief weak point, damaging the four monsters but the crimson of the charging blast continued to build.

"Concentrate fire on the left flank, give them some support!" Hackett said. The turrets of the Crucible lit up the dark of space with its pristine white blasts, colliding with the four Reapers, tearing apart their armor. The turian frigate and quarian ship, seeing their chance, increased their fire. The crimson light flickered to nothing and soon was replaced by the orange-red of the destruction of four more Reapers.

One of the ensigns conveyed the turian's commander and the quarian captain's appreciation for Hackett's support. The admiral could only nod, his eyes focused on the other fifty Reapers in front of them. It had been almost two hours since the Crucible sprang to life from that strange white light and since then the news had been steadily getting better. But even with every advantage the Crucible gave them, there was one thing it couldn't overcome, the sheer numbers. For every two or three Reapers they destroyed in orbit five more would erupt from Earth's surface to replace them. Sword's forces were dwindling, slowly but surely. By Hackett's estimation they had lost thirty percent of their original forces so far and the number was only growing. With the help of the Crucible they were managing to turn the tide, but Hackett feared by the time their forces made significant damage to the Reaper fleet, there wouldn't be any ships left to press the attack.

Hackett grimaced. He had overseen all matters of the Crucible construction. They had followed every step, deduced all the riddles, and adapted whatever new piece of technology that was needed. Yet they were still fighting a losing battle. There just weren't enough of them. There had to be a way to destroy these bastards once and for all.

"Admiral, there's a hail from Dr. Brynn Cole," the ensign announced.

"Patch her through," he said simply, making his way to the communication buoy.

The cobalt image of the former Cerberus doctor flicked onto the command deck. Even through the comm buoy, Hackett could see the exhaustion in her eyes in her stance. She stood at attention but Hackett knew a drained recruit when he saw one. Her elbows waivered and her fingers twitched. There was a slight bend in her knees as if it took all her strength just to remain standing. Hackett could sympathize. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a decent night's sleep. The admiral mentally scowled at himself. He could sleep when this war was over, or in his grave. Either way, the time to rest wasn't now.

"Dr. Cole," Hackett greeted.

"Admiral, my people have made a discovery," she said, not wasting time. "With the help of the research teams from Admiral Xen, geth analysts and a few others, we've found a way to destroy the Reapers in one fell swoop."

Hackett eyebrows shot up despite himself. Behind him he heard a cease in chatter from the ensigns. He could feel all their eyes on the buoy, trying to will more out of Dr. Cole. Hackett shared their desperate curiosity.

"I do hope you can support that statement, Dr. Cole," he said.

Brynn held up her arms. "I make no guarantees but we've run several tests and the theory is sound. But it will require a sacrifice."

Hackett nodded. He was no stranger to sacrifice in this war. At times he feared they had sacrificed too much. "What kind of sacrifice?"

"The Citadel."

OOOOO

Miranda had never been one for pacing or other nervous ticks. It was a habit that her father had made sure to drill out of her at an early age. She could still remember the moderate shocks installed into her onmi-tool that ran through her body every time it caught her so much as tapping her foot. Such obvious tells of her mood were fodder for enemies to exploit and made her vulnerable to manipulation. And yet, Miranda still found herself pacing the perimeter of the cramped communications chamber. By her own count she was on her eighth lap around and just began her ninth.

Admiral Hackett had requested her presence here twenty minutes ago. All he had told her was they would be discussing a method to destroy the Reapers. Miranda had been hesitant at first. Based on what she had seen on her viewing screen, this was no time for secret meetings. Their forces were slowly being driven back despite the advantages the Crucible had given them. If there was indeed a method to destroy the Reapers, rather than discussing it, Hackett should be deploying it immediately and discuss it later. But more importantly, being away from her desk meant she would miss any news from Jacob concerning Shepard's location and his health status. She had ordered Ensign Richard to contact her if there were any updates, even though a part her feared there would be none.

The door swished open behind her and the aging admiral entered the chamber. Miranda felt herself stiffen in surprise for a brief moment. She didn't expect the admiral to see her in person.

"Admiral," she greeted with a nod. "What's the situation?"

"A dire one, Ms. Lawson," he replied, making his way to the comm buoy and hailing several ships. "We have a chance to destroy the Reapers once and for all, but deploying the method shouldn't be my decision to make alone."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "So you invite the former second-in-command of Cerberus to listen in on this grand secret scheme?"

"No," he said firmly. "I invited a former member of the _Normandy_ crew, a crew that has more experience fighting the Reapers than anyone else in the galaxy. That one qualification supersedes all other information in your dossier, Ms. Lawson. And because of that, you deserve to be here when we all ultimately decide how the Reapers will be destroyed. If I were able, I would sync in every member of Shepard's crew. But we don't have that luxury."

Miranda could feel a smile tug at her lips despite herself. She could see now why Hackett was the only other Alliance admiral Shepard held in high regards.

She replied with a genuine salute to the admiral. "Thank you, sir. I just hope your guests feel the same."

Hackett nodded and sighed. "Let's hope so, otherwise….."

The comm buoy blinked indicating the incoming hails. Within moments the figures of the Citadel council flickered into the small chamber.

"Admiral," the asari councilor, Irissa, greeted. "Good to see you holding up well."

"With all due respect councilor, we don't have the time for pleasantries," Hackett said. "The scientists and research crew of the Crucible have discovered a method of destroying the Reapers."

"Don't leave us in suspense," the turian councilor, Quentius said. "If it isn't the Crucible, what is it?"

Miranda leaned in slightly as well.

"Simply put," Hackett continued. "We destroy the Citadel, the Crucible included."

The small chamber fell silent as the statement hung in the air. The only sound Miranda could pick up was the humming of the engines and the faint explosions from the battle. She glanced at the council, their faces united in the expression of shock. Hackett grasped his hands behind his back as if preparing himself for the resulting onslaught. He didn't have to wait long.

"D-destroy the Citadel?" the salarian councilor, Esheel, exclaimed. "Are you out of your mind?"

"The Citadel is the center of galactic society!" Irissa said. "And your plan is to blow it up like it was just some condemned building?"

"The Citadel has always been a trap," Miranda cut in. "It is how the Reapers consistently gain the upper hand in the cycles. They make civilizations dependant on the Citadel in order to draw all the species together in one place. And then when the time comes to wipe them out, it's a simple matter of cutting us off from it. Destroying the Citadel is our best chance to break this cycle and start anew."

"Why am I not surprised that the Cerberus operative advocates such a drastic act of terrorism," Esheel spat.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "_Former_ Cerberus operative."

"The point still stands."

Miranda bit the inside of her cheek to keep scowl off her lips. Typical politicians. The galaxy was a breath away from extinction and they were still dragging their heels. All because of their emotional attachment to a structure that has long been established as a Reaper trap. Miranda wished that Liara was present. The young asari had more data and evidence about the dangers of the Citadel than Miranda could iterate alone. But even with Liara's hardcore evidence, Miranda was sure that these bureaucratic blockers would still find a reason to do nothing.

"Miranda Lawson is a member of Commander Shepard's crew," Hackett said. "She speaks with the experience that comes with facing the Collectors, agents of the Reapers. And if Commander Shepard were present, I am sure he would be on board with this procedure."

"Where is the Commander?" Irissa asked. "I've heard no word on his status."

Hackett sighed. "Unknown. I'm ready to declare him killed in action."

Miranda had to keep herself from flinching. She folded her arms and proceeded to continue her ninth lap around the communications chamber, anything to hide the growing quake in her legs.

"I-I see…" the asari muttered, visibly shaken.

"All the more reason for us to take action," the admiral pressed. "To end this war, the Citadel must be destroyed."

"How would you accomplish this?" Quentius asked simply. "The Citadel was made to withstand an onslaught of over two thousand dreadnaughts."

"A valid question councilor. After the initial white light several hours' prior, new aspects about the Crucible became known. Thanks to Ms. Lawson, we learned that the Crucible is able to absorb and reflect Reaper energy. Thanks our ground forces we know that the Crucible also weakened the Reaper's armor and slowed their processing speed. But one of our top scientists, Dr. Cole and her team, have made another discovery," Hackett said, pausing to gage his audience. "It can also internalize the energy it absorbs and concentrate it into a blast."

"Is this proven?" Esheel asked, holding her hands over her lips in the same manor Mordin did when his interest peaked. Miranda vaguely wondered if that was just a salarian habit in general.

"And how does this connect to destroying the Citadel?" Irissa said.

Quentius merely nodded, signaling for Hackett to continue.

"Dr. Cole's theory is, put simply; the Crucible's drive has a maximum amount of energy input it can take before it collapses on itself. She suggested that by syncing the power of the Citadel to the drive core of the Crucible, it can survive an onslaught of over a thousand Reapers," the admiral said.

"Then when the Crucible fires all that built up energy back…" the turian councilor said.

"Exactly, the energy output from the resulting blast will be so great that the Citadel will be completely destroyed. However both the explosion and the blast will wipe out any synthetic with Reaper codes in their system," he said. "In one fell swoop, this war will over."

"What about the Reapers already on the Earth's surface?" Quentius asked. "And in the other systems?"

"According to Dr. Cole's hypothesis, when the energy from the blast mixes with the energy from the Mass Relays it should distribute the energy throughout the other systems," Hackett replied. "However the distance and the full extent of the collateral damage are unknown."

"That's assuming we agree to this ridiculous idea!" Irissa exclaimed. "Destroying the Citadel is off the table!"

"Moreover, you're destroying our one advantage against the Reapers!" Esheel said. "What if this fails? What then?"

"There must be another option," the asari said. "Luring them into a star perhaps? Utilizing the dark energy the quarians have been researching recently?"

Miranda had heard enough. "There is no other option," she said coldly, her voice echoing in the chamber. "I want all of you to look outside your windows. Look at the devastation the Reapers bring and will continue to bring. Unless we stop them, there won't be anything left."

"We are aware this notion," the asari said.

Miranda slammed her hand on the panel. "Are you? Because the logic you've presented suggests that you aren't! You call yourselves the representatives of the galaxy but as far as I'm concerned the only representatives I see are out there putting everything on the line to destroy these bastards once and for all."

"You dare-" the salarian muttered.

"I do," Miranda continued. "Consistently all you've done is passed this burden onto Shepard and then condemn him when he turns to you for help. He's sacrificed friends, allies, his reputation, for we know he's made the ultimate sacrifice to get us this far! We're a breath away from ending this threat for good and yet you continue to do nothing! What will it take until you realize that it's all or nothing? Thessia is conquered, Earth is a complete wasteland, Palavan is on the verge, what more are you waiting for? Blood of every species has been spilt across the galaxy, and we have a chance for this end today! Not a year from now, not after a discussion other possibilities, Now, _now, __**now!"**_

All eyes were on her as her chest heaved as if she had just completed a four hour workout. Miranda wasn't sure what had come over her. Rhetoric had never been her strong suit. She had always been more aligned to presenting hard facts and letting the evidence speak for itself. But to see the council just stand by and let this opportunity pass was too much to take. Maybe listing to all of Shepard's speeches during the Collector mission had more effect on her than she realized. She leaned against the control panel and took a breath. At the very least, judging from their expressions, the council seemed pensive.

"If you feel so strongly…" Esheel said. "Why contact us? Why not just activate the sequence?"

Miranda turned to Hackett. She had no answer for the salarian councilor.

"Because," Hackeet began. "I refuse to see history repeat itself."

"What are you talking about?" Irissa asked, although from her expression, Miranda could tell the asari knew.

"Consistently, this council has kept secrets. Secrets that have gotten countless killed or almost led to war," the admiral said. "The prothean beacon on Thessia, the turian bomb on Tuchanka, the hidden krogan females on Sur'Kesh, the Genophage modification project, all these secrets have led to disastrous consequences. Now is our chance to do better. I refuse to see a united galaxy fall apart because I repeated your mistakes. It's your choice councilors. Continue with this policy of secrets, or take a step towards a new future."

The chamber became quiet once more. The council members regarded each other, their usual stoic faces reduced to uncertainty and hesitation. Irissa rubbed her forehead and managed a short breath. Esheel fingers touched her wide lips, muttering something to herself. Quentius's mandibles twitched but other than that tick, he was unreadable. If it weren't for her time with Garrus, Miranda would be sure the turian was his usual stoic self. Miranda glanced at Admiral Hackett, true to military form he remained at ease and was as still as a stone. A faint pop from outside the walls reminded Miranda there was no more time. Fortunately, Quentius seemed to share her view.

"Admiral Hackett, you have my full support," he said. "The turian fleet is yours."

The admiral nodded. "Thank you councilor."

"We'll lose countless years of galactic history…." Irissa muttered. "But we'll lose our entire race if the Reapers prevail. You have my support as well."

All eyes turned to Esheel.

"There are too many variables," the salarian repeated several times under her breath. "Too many unknowns….However, there is no other option. You have the support of the salarians."

"Excellent," Hackett said, visibly unmoved but Miranda knew he was just as relived as she was. "We'll need a massive evacuation plan as well as some of our best soldiers infiltrating the Citadel."

"One of our best is already on the Citadel," Miranda said simply. "And I know he'll be more than happy to take part in this plan."

OOOOOO

Jacob slumped against the access port. He could already feel several bruises forming on his back and chest. The blasts from the banshees packed more of a punch than he expected. Hendricks was still out cold, but at least he was breathing. Jacob didn't need someone else dying on his watch. Whatever wounds Grunt sustained from his rampage seemed to heal already. Jacob wished he could have some of his genes at least for a few moments. Shepard was slung over Grunt's broad shoulders. He hadn't moved at all since they got him. Jacob didn't want to count the commander out yet, but the evidence before him didn't lie.

"You're not gonna die on me are you Jacob?" Grunt asked.

"Forget about me," Jacob insisted. "How's Shepard?"

"Still breathing," Grunt said. "But barely. I don't know why his secondary organs haven't kicked in yet."

Jacob groaned. "Grunt…humans don't have that."

"Damn it, I forgot about that," the krogan said. "Then come on let's move."

They moved at a brisk pace despite the unconscious friends on their shoulders. Between the weight of Hendricks and the growing ache from his bruises, Jacob couldn't be more relieved when he saw the gates of the Crucible lower deck. The doors swished open, showing a five medics waiting with a stretcher and four canisters of medi-gel. The medics did a double take at Grunt as the krogan eased Shepard onto the stretcher and called for another for Hendricks.

"Would like us to take a look at you too Mr. Taylor?" one of the medics asked.

"No, Shepard is your top priority," Jacob said.

The medic nodded. "Take the commander to the escape shuttle; we'll rendezvous with the one of the asari cruisers for pick up."

It was then that Jacob noticed the flurry of activity occurring around him. Personnel of every level were scrambling about shouting orders on what to take and what to leave behind. The names of various starships part of Sword flew out of their mouths, listing off various rendezvous points and the ETA's for pick-ups. The medics carried Shepard away with a swiftness that Jacob only saw when soldiers were about to abandon ship. That didn't bode well. Did Reapers break through their lines? Had the Crucible failed?

"Jacob!" Brynn's voice struck his ears, lighting the building darkness in his mind. A quick embrace was all he needed to forget about the growing aches on his body. "Did you find the commander?"

"Yeah, but…he was pretty bad," he replied.

"Don't worry, if anyone can pull through it's the battle-master," Grunt said.

Brynn glanced at Grunt, taken aback. "I-I thought you went with Hendricks. Where did this krogan come from?"

"This is Grunt," Jacob said. "He's an old shipmate from the _Normandy_. How he wound up on the Citadel is beyond me."

Grunt laughed. "It's a long story."

"One we don't have time for," Brynn said. "Jacob, I have another mission for you."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "What kind of mission?"

"One that will destroy the Reapers once and for all."

"I'm in."

OOOOO

Jacob wasn't sure what to think making his way back to the Citadel. On the one hand, Brynn's theory made sense. The explosion from this would at the very least damage the Reapers. At best destroy them. The war would be over and the galaxy saved. But what if there were people still on the Citadel? From what he saw of the lower decks, there didn't seem to be any survivors. Anyone who didn't get off in time when the Reapers took control was probably part of the piles of corpses around him. But what if a few managed to hide? Was it right to sacrifice their lives too? What would Shepard do? Jacob shook his head. He knew what the commander would do. He'd try to save as many people as he could. There had to be a way to warn any survivors to get off the station.

"I gotta say Jacob," Grunt said from behind him, his assault rifle ready for any enemies. "That mate of yours has a mind like a salarian to come up with something like this."

"Uh….thanks…?"

"Ending the war with a big explosion? That's my kind of strategy."

"Let's hope it works."

They made their way down the dark corridor. Brynn had sent them down another acesss port to avoid the scores of cannibals and banshees that remained since Jacob's last visit. If he and Grunt remained quiet, maybe they could activate the sequence without any trouble. But experience had taught him going in was easy, getting out would be the problem. At least this time he had stronger backup.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," Jacob said. "How'd you wind up here before?"

Grunt shrugged. "Wrex sent what was left of my Aralakh Company to reinforce Shepard's Hammer squad. But we got cut off by those stupid banshees and brutes. It took us a good while to cut them down. By the time we made it through, Hammer was decimated and Harbinger had left to go fight in space, leaving that beacon thing unguarded. I told my men to hold the line while I checked it out."

"You went in alone?"

Grunt scoffed. "I'm a member of Clan Urdnot and pure krogan, what did I have to be afraid of?"

Jacob managed a chuckle.

"I was more worried about my men," Grunt said softly. "Too many of them got hit when those banshees and brutes attacked. I wasn't sure what would be up here, I didn't want to take the risk. Especially not with the genophage finally cured."

Jacob nodded. "How they doing now?"

"They're holding the line," Grunt said. "For how long I'm not sure. So let's get this thing done."

"My thoughts exactly."

They reached the control panel several minutes later. Jacob looked over the endless array of buttons and switches trying to figure out where to start. Grunt covered his flank, keeping his eyes peeled on every entrance. Jacob activated the comm. Channel on his omni-tool.

"Brynn, I'm at the panel, what do I do first?"

She walked him through the sequence, exposing him to screens and options that he didn't know existed on a computer. There were countless pass-codes and patterns needed just to reach the drive core screen. Then he needed to wait for the members of Bynn's team to do the same on the Crucible computer. The process took far longer than Jacob expected but finally after what seemed like half an hour, it was ready.

"Now close to program and type in this series of key strokes," Brynn said.

Jacob poised his hands over the keyboard, ready for this nightmare to be over.

"Jacob…" Grunt said from behind him.

"I'm almost done Grunt."

"You'd better be, because we have a serious problem."

"I'm disappointed Jacob," an all too familiar voice said. "Very disappointed."

Jacob froze. The room temperature suddenly dropped below zero. The former operative whipped out his pistol and whirled around to face the problem. Who greeted him, made the soldier nearly drop his weapon.

The Illusive Man.

"It can't be!" Jacob exclaimed. "You're dead! I can still see where you shot yourself!"

The undead man passed his hand on the exit wound. "It would seem, death didn't take."

"You sure humans don't have secondary organs?" Grunt asked.

"I'm positive," Jacob replied. "But if he's alive, all this means is I get to kill him myself!"

Shots echoed around the chamber. Six well placed holes now dotted the crazed leader's torso. But other than making the man pause to look down at his new wounds, they did nothing.

"What the-!"

"I've had some upgrades," he said simply. "Allow me to show you just how thorough the Reapers are in their work."

As if on cue, his body pulsed. Veins snaked up and down his exposed skin. His screams made Jacob wish for sound damping plugs. His body buckled and twisted like a rag doll as his skeletal structure broke apart and reformed itself. The well groomed suit he wore was torn to shreds as his torso bulked up to six times its size. Muscles and veins sprouted onto his new body while spikes sprang out from his spinal column and elbows. His face elongated to make room for the 32 fangs in his mouth. The ever white hair fell off his scalp like leaves in autumn. A single spike took its place. His skin darkened to a mixture of brown and red. His voice deepened to a demon-like register that no human could hope to reach. The only feature that remained of the Illusive Man was his piercing blue eyes. The new monster fell to its now massive hands and feet and had only one thing to say to them.

"_**I AM HARBINGER. AND THIS STATION IS **__**MINE!"**_


	5. Destruction (Phase 2)

I'll Find You

Chapter 5: Destruction (Phase 2)

"_I AM HARBINGER. AND THIS STATION IS MINE!"_

Jacob had always been the first to admit he'd seen his fair share of crazy shit. In his time as an Alliance Corsair, a Cerberus enforcer, and a crew member of the_ Normandy_, Jacob had been sure that he had seen everything the galaxy could throw at him. But staring at the abomination before him proved just how wrong he had been. He had read Shepard's report of Sovereign's hijack of Saren's body three years ago; he even talked to Shepard and Garrus about it during the Collectors mission. But seeing it firsthand, hearing the screams of the Illusive Man as all of his humanity was stripped away, was indescribable.

The eyes of the human-Reaper remained fixed on Jacob, as if trying to gauge his reaction. Jacob could feel his bottom lip quiver and sweat roll down his forehead. His grip on his pistol was nonexistent. Years worth of combat training and experience was the only factor that kept him from dropping it. His legs refused to hold his weight and seemed ready to give out at any moment. Jacob did have a word for his reaction.

And it was terror.

Absolute terror.

The creature took a breath and unleashed a monstrous roar that seemed to drain all color from Jacob's skin. The monster sprang forward; its fangs dripping with drool, ready to eviscerate every part of his body. A shove from Grunt, with the force of a speeding car, saved Jacob from that fate. Jacob struck the chrome floor, shoulder first and rolled the rest of the way while Grunt unloaded his M-15 Vindicator rifle. Embers from the krogan's incendiary ammo simmered on the monster's armor-like skin and quickly flickering into nothing as the Reaper hybrid charged. Grunt rolled out of its path and switched to his Claymore shotgun. Two shots struck the beast but only succeeded in aggravating it. The new Reaper closed the distance between them and in a single blow sent Grunt flying down the platform, next to the petrified Jacob.

Grunt shook his head like he had merely bumped it. "Damn pyjak!" he growled.

The Reaper hybrid circled the computer panel, its eyes not leaving its two opponents. Grunt pumped his Claymore, replacing the overheated thermal clip. He turned to Jacob, his eyes glazed over with adrenaline.

"Jacob on your feet!" he barked. "You gotta do your computer-thing to blow this damn place up!"

Jacob heard the words, but Grunt sounded like he was light-years away from him. He tried to answer the krogan, but his mouth seemed incapable of forming speech. A tug from Grunt brought him to his feet but the human's body felt like a statue. He could only stare at the humanoid Reaper before him, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Damn it, Jacob, snap out of it!"

The next thing Jacob knew, a krogan head slammed against his forehead, knocking the human back to the floor. For a few seconds there seemed to be two Grunts dancing in front of Jacob's vision. His forehead ached and Jacob could already feel blood oozing out from the new wound. But the overwhelming headache seemed to override the paralyzing effect he felt before. Jacob shook his head and slowly pulled himself to his feet.

"Thanks," he said with a groan. "…I think."

Grunt switched to his Vindicator. "You good?"

Jacob grabbed his M-23 Katana. "Yeah."

"You better be," Grunt said as the pale blue of his fortification ability covered his armor. "Cuz I'm going in, draw this thing's fire."

Jacob flared up his biotic barrier and switched to incendiary ammo. "Got it. I'll finish the job at the control panel."

"See you on the other side."

"Here's hoping."

Jacob exchanged a glance with the krogan, who merely nodded and fired off a concussive round at the monster. The round struck the Reaper hybrid's deformed head and exploded on impact. With the smoke over its vision, Jacob dashed for the control panel, his body warm with adrenaline and pain from Grunt's head-butt. The smoke had barely begun to clear before the former Illusive Man let out a screech and sprang towards the tank-bred krogan.

Grunt let out a roar of his own before charging, his Vindicator firing off every round in his magazine as he went. "I'm Urdnot Grunt and today is the day you DIE!"

The cinders from the ammo dotted the monster's skin but didn't seem to deter it. The humanoid Reaper swung its massive arms like the Brutes. Grunt ducked under the blow, making the limb strike the chrome floor, resulting in a small quake that Jacob could feel even from the control panel. The former soldier had to grip the sides of the panel to maintain his balance. Grunt dodged another blow before slamming his shoulder into the monster's torso, knocking it back a few steps. The krogan quickly switched to his Claymore and fired off a concussive shot point blank. The recoil sent the adolescent krogan stumbling backwards.

But the proximity of the shot mattered little to the Reaper. The monster emerged from the smoke undamaged and sprang at the krogan once more. Grunt fired off one more shot before the overheated hiss of his gun caught Jacob's ear. Before the tank-bred could switch out thermal clips, the Reaper sank its sharp fangs into Grunt's shoulder. The krogan let out a vexed growl before smashing his head into the Reaper's body. The Reaper stumbled but kept its oral grip. The abomination reeled its head back, lifting the one ton alien off the floor. It shook its head like a dog with a bone before hurling Grunt off the side of the rotund platform.

"Grunt!" Jacob exclaimed. But the sight of the krogan's three clawed hand digging into the chrome floor told the former marine he clung to his life, for now. But the Reaper seemed to see it two and sprang at the dangling krogan, adamant to finish the job.

Jacob's body flared with azure blue and thrust his arm out at the Reaper. The blue aura of Jacob's biotics engulfed it, freezing the Reaper in mid-air. But the creature thrashed about, its defiant screeches were like needles stabbing in Jacob's ears. Even without the noise, Jacob knew he couldn't maintain the grip for long. The monster most likely weighed several tons and required more biotic effort and power to keep suspended. Power Jacob knew he didn't have. Already he could feel the aura weaken and his body yelling at him to break off the technique. Jacob glanced at the ledge as blood began to ooze down his nostrils from the overexertion. He saw Grunt's other hand grab onto the ledge.

The aura around the monster began to recede. Only seven seconds remained until the technique would cancel itself out. A pained growl from the ledge signaled Jacob to look over once more and see Grunt pull himself back up with yellow-orange fluid seeping out from his new wound. Grunt took one glance at the floating monster before pulling out his Vindicator and firing another concussive round. The blast sent the creature flying back down the walkway. It rolled at least four times before coming to a stop, completely still.

Jacob's chest heaved when the technique shorted out. He'd never had to keep any biotic attack up for that long against something so heavy. It was a good thing Shepard didn't pick him to protect the squad from the seeker swarms during the assault on the Collectors. Jacob knew he wouldn't have been up for the task.

Grunt made his way over, rolling his shoulder a few times as if checking for lasting damage. He grabbed his fallen Claymore before taking up a defensive stance behind Jacob.

"Looks like that thing doesn't like biotics very much," Jacob said as he tried to re-establish his link to the Crucible.

Grunt pumped his Claymore. "Yeah, he should join the club."

Another screech and the former Illusive Man was on its feet.

"Think you can do that again?" Grunt asked.

Jacob shook his head. "To keep that thing down, you'll need biotic power way beyond what I got. Besides, even if I could, I have to finish this destruction sequence."

"Ah, where's Jack when you need her?"

"Or Samara."

"Jacob!" he heard Brynn over the comm.-line. "Jacob, are you there?"

"I'm here Brynn," Jacob replied.

"What happened? I lost contact with you for a while."

Jacob glanced over his shoulder to see Grunt charge the Harbinger possessed Illusive Man. "Trust me babe, the less you know the better. Just tell me what else I need to do to prime this destruction sequence, we're running out of time."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. Harbinger is making its way towards our front line! If we don't hurry, it'll decimate everything, Citadel and Crucible included!"

"How many direct hits can the Citadel take?"

"Now that we've synched the Citadel to the Crucible drive core it should be able to withstand a great deal. But all of that will be worthless if you don't prime the discharge of the energy."

"How much longer then?"

"Seven minutes….ideally."

Behind Jacob, he heard Grunt toss his Claymore and tackle the Reaper to the floor. But even Grunt could hold that monster off for only so long.

They had four minutes at best.

"Let's finish this."

OOOOOO

The Crucible deck had become a frenzy of chaos the moment Admiral Hackett revealed the destruction plan to its crew. Throngs of personnel saturated the narrow corridors, turning walking into a never-ending game of Tetris. With every four steps, Miranda seemed to bump into someone storming the corridor, shouting questions or putting a request for primary placement on one of the escape shuttles. Scientists of every species scrambled to save whatever samples or notes they could, while the soldiers assigned struggled to keep order. The news that Harbinger was slowly making its way to the front lines did not help matters either. The Crucible had not been built with many escape shuttles. At most they could fit a quarter of the crew with the amount they had but that was nowhere near good enough.

Miranda's eyes were fixed on the display of the battle on her Omni-tool while she made her way down to the med-bay. Over her comm-link she could hear the sounds of battle from the admiral she was conversing with.

"I understand your reservations Admiral Gerrel," Miranda said over the comm.-link. "But we haven't gotten this far by playing safe. The Crucible needs your ships for a proper evacuation."

"There's a break in the Reaper lines!" Gerrel insisted. "I need all the ships available to me to push the offensive! If we break off our ships will be too exposed. We'll lose more than we save."

The initial burst of white energy from the Crucible had given their forces the boost it needed to keep them in the game. Conventional means were finally working against the Reapers, causing many ships in the Sword division to push their luck and attempt a full offensive. However, with the destruction plan in place, admirals like Gerrel and several others like Balaak and a few turians, were only putting themselves and their crew at risk.

"Don't be stupid," Miranda pressed. "If you advance too far, your ships will catch full the brunt of the destruction sequence. In that case, you'll lose everything."

"And when is the next time we'll see a break in the Reaper lines like this?" Gerrel said. "The more we destroy now the more effective this destruction sequence of yours will be."

Miranda rubbed her forehead. It was like talking to a damn wall. She knew from Tali that quarians like to argue and debate, but this was taking it to a whole different level.

"Operative Lawson," another Admiral cut in. "This Admiral Koris, the Civilian Fleet will be more than happy to render assistance."

"Zaal, I told you, the heavy fleet needs the civilian fleet for covering fire!" Gerrel said.

"Evacuating the Crucible crew is far more important Gerrel," Koris said.

"Thank you admiral," Miranda said. "You'll be evacuating the crew of deck four. Approximately 250 people, can your ships handle that?"

"It will be a tight fit, but we'll do it."

"Excellent, I'll send you the rendezvous coordinates."

The link flickered out as Miranda reached the med-bay. A soldier ran past her and she grabbed his shoulder.

"Yes Ms. Lawson?"

"Inform the crew of deck four that the _Qwib-Qwib_ is coming to extract them in ten minutes. Their priority should be evacuating any children and non-combatants. Leave any non-essential projects and notes behind."

"Understood ma'am."

The former Cerberus operative took a breath as she stood in front of the med-bay door. The news had reached her that Jacob had successfully extracted Shepard a few minutes ago. She had meant to check-in sooner but organizing the evacuation and arranging for more ships had to take precedence. She wasn't even sure why she had come down in the first place. According to the report Shepard wasn't even conscious. Visiting now didn't serve him or her any good.

Miranda shook her head at the thought. No, she knew why she came down, because there was chance she wouldn't be able to later.

The door slid open and immediately her nose was assaulted with the surgical odor of medi-gel, alcohol, and countless other chemicals. It only took Miranda few moments to get accustomed to the scent. She had after all, spent two years of her life in such an environment. The med-bay was a cramped room with only a dozen or so beds. The shelves only had room for the most basic of medical supplies and there were only three medical dispensers for the entire room. It was obvious that the protheans or whoever designed the Crucible didn't design it for long-term use.

Most of the beds were empty. A good deal of the injured personnel was already on their way to the escape shuttles. The only ones who remained were three doctors and they were all huddled around a single bed, listing off various injuries and possibilities of treatment.

Miranda approached the foot of the bed, her heart in her throat. Shepard's body was confined to countless machines, tracking both brain and heart activity, both of which were low. The amber salve of the medi-gel was smeared from his neck down to his stomach. The sheets of the bed prevented her from seeing just how far down the salve went, but it did allow her to see the countless wounds, scorch marks, deep slashes, and worse that his armor would have concealed. In way seeing Shepard in this form brought Miranda back to Project Lazarus, only this time Shepard meant far more to her than just a long-term science project.

He meant so much more.

"What's his status?" she asked the salarian doctor next to her.

The doctor tapped a few buttons on his datapad. "The medi-gel has stabilized him but…."

"But?"

"Internal bleeding, several fractures in the rib and chest area, eardrums blown out, serve burns, blood entering the lungs….it's not looking good."

"Where is he being moved?"

"As you can well imagine, several fleets have offered to shelter the great Commander Shepard," an asari doctor said. "We settled for General Corinthus. His dreadnaught has top the line armor and large amount of fighters and frigates to support it. The commander will be safe there for the retreat."

"Have you calculated the risk factor of any dextro-based substances entering the commander's body?"

"We've managed to lower it to 5.3 percent with a two percent margin of error," a red haired female doctor replied.

"Get it down to three percent or less however you can," she said, her eyes not leaving the wounds on Shepard. "I want a full crew manifest of all of General Corinthus's medical personnel along with access to their dossiers."

The asari jotted down Miranda's requests on her datapad. "Noted. Anything else Ms. Lawson?"

"I'll need a moment alone with him, to survey the full extent of his injuries myself. It should only take ten minutes at most. Finalize the transfer for both the commander and yourselves in the meantime."

It was only until the doctors shuffled past her and she heard the door swish to a close, did Miranda dare approach the bed. She ran her hand from his covered leg up to his cold face, trying to fully take in the sight before her. Her thumb brushed against his lips. The last time he kissed her seemed like a completely different life, when in truth it had only been at most, three days ago. She remembered waking up next to him after the crew's party in Anderson's apartment on the Citadel, and she could honestly say that she had never felt true happiness until that moment. A cheesy and naïve sentiment no doubt, but Miranda couldn't describe it any other way. And now, the source of that happiness lay in front her looking more like a corpse than the man she had come to….care for deeply.

Her white gloved hand took his still one while she brushed his cheeks with her other hand. Her throat was dry and already she could feel moisture build within the corners of her eyes.

"Shepard," she whispered. "I'm not sure if you can hear me. You probably can't certainly, but I'm….glad that you made it out. When that first blast went off, I knew you must have had something to do with it. Large explosions are your forte after all."

She blinked several times trying to keep her tears at bay.

"I know you. I know you'll pull through somehow. The galaxy needs you to pull through. And…_I_ need you to pull through. There are so many things I need to tell to you…."

Miranda searched her brilliant mind for more to stay, but came up short. She increased her grip on his limp hand while stroking his bloodied knuckles with her thumb. Silence filled the room save for the occasional beep of the life support machines. The minutes seemed to pass like seconds until the notification alarm on her onmi-tool broke the stillness.

"Ms. Lawson!" Ensign Richard said over the comm. Line. "We have an update for you about the evacuation."

"It looks like I have to get back to it," she said softly. "Please just hang in there."

At that moment, Shepard's hand closed around hers and squeezed her palm. Miranda wasn't sure if it was the result of an involuntary motor function or truly a reaction to her presence. There was hardly any strength in his grip but it was enough to give Miranda pause. His face was still and his heart and brain functions were still minimal. But she couldn't deny the warmth, however small, in Shepard's hand.

Reluctantly Miranda pulled away and activated her comm. Channel.

"Commander Shepard is ready to be evacuated," she announced. "What's the status of General Corinthus's ship?"

"Being swarmed by Reapers ma'am," Ensign Richard said. "I've transferred the evacuation plan to a geth ship closer to your location."

Miranda held in a grunt. "A geth ship won't have a proper medical staff on board."

"I'm sorry ma'am it's the best I could do under the circum-…..holy shit!"

"What?"

"It's Harbinger and it brought 30 of his friends!"

Miranda quickly switched on the displays panels to see the sight for herself.

The sight before her sucked all energy from her body. Thirty Reapers all lined up like a firing squad was aimed for the Citadel. Their beams transformed the dark abyss of space into a sea of crimson red.

Seconds later all Miranda could see was red.

OOOOO

A powerful impact shook the entire chamber, knocking Jacob off his feet. The sound of a heavy set of metal striking the floor as well, told Jacob that Grunt felt it too. But the Reaper hybrid seemed unaffected. It pounced at the downed krogan, who quickly rolled out of its path and flared up his fortification power. The shield extension took the full hit of two swipes from the beast before fired one last concussive round, knocking it back. The thermal clip popped out of his assault rifle but the loud hiss from the weapon meant that there was no replacement for it. Grunt snarled and switched to his shotgun, only to be met with the same result. The human-Reaper sprang back to all fours ready to continue.

"Jacob! I'm out!"

The former marine hurled his shotgun at the tank-born. "Use what's left in that!"

"Thanks, sissy gun though."

"Brynn, what the hell was that?"

"It's Harbinger! It just decimated the front line and is focusing all its attention on the Citadel! Along with thirty more Reapers!"

"That's good right?" Jacob asked. "More blasts mean the more energy released when this thing blows."

"Our theory was based on the fire power of two or three Reapers at a time, not thirty! It's too much at once!"

Jacob glanced down at the energy levels of the drive core and sure enough the readings had spiked in an exceptional manner. Already the Crucible was at 47 percent of its maximum input. But the excess Reaper energy was breaking down certain functions of the Citadel. A total breakdown was inevitable. Only it wouldn't be the controlled detonation like they had planned.

"How long do we have?" was all Jacob could ask.

"I-I'm not sure. If this keeps up….not long. The fleets are trying to stall them as much as possible but….Jacob if anything happens….."

"Don't start saying your goodbyes now," Jacob said as he rearrange the code. "I'm setting the destruction sequence to activate the second it reaches 100 percent input. Get yourself and everyone else off that station now, Brynn!"

"All right, but how are you and your krogan friend getting out? We can't send another access port."

"We'll figure something out. Just get yourself to an escape shuttle and take everyone you can. I love you, and I'll see you soon."

"Jacob I…I….I'll see you when you get back."

The connection fizzled out with another rumble, causing the chrome floor to crack. The energy levels spiked to 67 percent. It wouldn't last long at this rate. Jacob gritted his teeth and grabbed his pistol.

"Grunt! We're leaving!" he exclaimed.

Grunt rammed the Reaper hybrid with shoulder, knocking it back a few steps. "Great, I'm already sick of this place!"

"Do you remember your way to the beam that got you up here?"

"Yeah it's a straight shot after this pyjak! Just wish we had more ammo!"

The Reaper hybrid glanced at the two of them before letting out one more deafening scream that shook the walls. Jacob had to latch onto Grunt's shoulder to stay on his feet. But soon the scream lowered into a booming bass that brought Jacob back to the collector base.

"_**YOU HAVE CHANGED NOTHING! THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE!" **_

The door flew open, allowing hordes of cannibals to swarm the walkway behind the Reaper-hybrid. Twenty marauders followed soon after along with three brutes and two banshees. Surrounded by its allies the Reaper-hybrid let out another roar, this one of triumph it seemed like. Jacob felt the sweat build on the back of his neck. Even Grunt looked at their new opponents with a hesitation he'd never seen before.

"We're gonna need bigger guns," the krogan said.

"And a miracle," Jacob muttered.

"If we're going out we're taking all these bastards with us agreed?"

"Damn right. Just hope there's a good bar in the after-life."

"Heh, if the gods don't have a decent bottle of ryncol they aren't gods."

Jacob flared up his barrier and made sure he had a decent amount of thermal clips. "See you on the other side."

Grunt merely nodded and with one savage roar, worthy of any krogan, he charged headlong into their final skirmish with the Reapers.

"Goodbye Brynn," Jacob muttered under his breath. The marine said one last prayer before following Grunt lead into the fray.

All he could hear were the sounds of gunfire.

AN: Yes this story is still alive. I've just been playing through ME3 again with the extended cut, Leviathan, Omega, and the Citadel DLC included. With all of those it makes the game feel much fuller and complete than when it was first released. The ending is still kind of "love it or hate it", no matter what, so there's that. Anyways hope you enjoyed this chapter. Ideally the next installment should be out by early May if all goes well.


	6. Destruction (Phase 3)

I'll Find You

Chapter 6: Destruction (Phase 3)

Samara's knees buckled as three Brutes hammered away at her shield. Ripples ran up and down the azure orb with each strike but the defense held strong. Incendiary shots from the commando squad at her flank struck the monstrous krogan-turian fusions, peppering their thick hides with small embers. From the lack of pause in the monsters' blows, Samara could tell that the commandos' efforts had no lasting effect. It did however, manage to catch the interest of one Brute, which immediately ceased its blunt offensive against Samara and charged towards the eight commandos. Already their commander, Inara, ordered her commandos to fall back and signaled for suppressing fire. Samara shifted her gaze to the beam in the distance. Falling back was not an option. The justicar took a breath and mentally called upon what was left of her biotic reserves.

Her body became saturated in the azure energy, bringing the wayward Brute's attention back to her. It charged her flank while the two in front of her raised their massive limbs ready to smash her to bits. They never had the chance to finish their attack. Samara thrust out her hands, unleashing the massive reserves of her power. For the briefest of moments blue light was all anyone could see in no man's land. When the light faded, Samara dropped to her knees with the bodies of three Brutes and a sizable crater before her.

"Are you injured commander?" she asked her fellow asari.

Commander Inara gulped, failing to suppress her awe. "We're all fine, ready for the next push."

Samara nodded, already feeling her strength return. "Excellent, we haven't time to waste."

The small squad replaced their thermal clips and moved further down no man's land to the pristine beam that overtook the London skyline. Several hours had passed since the initial blast from the Crucible and the battle on the ground had taken a significant turn in their favor. Areas that had previously been overwhelmed were able to regain their offensive momentum which enabled them to retake key positions. The allied forces had eliminated five destroyers around London's perimeter, which allowed much needed air support to reach the surface of the battle. Samara had been a part of the destruction process. With the aid of three STG agents and a krogan battler master, they eradicated two destroyers before they were ambushed by five Banshees. With her advanced biotic abilities, Samara had been able to ward off the initial attack. Her squad mates were not so fortunate. It had taken the justicar two hours to finish off her attackers.

She had been en route to regroup with the main force when she encountered Commander Inara's squad. Or rather, what remained of her squad. They had been in charge of giving Hammer squad air support but Harbinger shot down their ships in a matter of seconds. On his run to the beam, Shepard had stopped to help Inara pull out some of her squad mates before telling her to fall back. The asari commander had seen Shepard reach the beam but never saw him return. Samara was beginning to fear the worst. She doubted someone of Shepard's caliber needed her assistance, especially this close to the very end but she could not deny her apprehensive feelings. If nearly a millennium of life had taught her one thing it was that her instincts often had some merit of truth to them. At the very least, reaching the beam would provide her the opportunity to complete whatever business Shepard left undone, if her feeling of dread was indeed correct.

Samara turned to the commander. "Let us continue forward."

"Copy that," Commander Inara replied.

"Ma'am!" one of the commandos exclaimed. "We have a bogey incoming. One target it looks like. Humanoid."

"A husk?" the Commander asked, readying her assault rifle.

"Doubtful," Samara replied as her biotic barrier flared around her. "A single husk rarely attacks on its own."

"Another mutated asari?"

Samara shook her head again. "We would have heard screeching by now."

"So what are we dealing with here, justicar?"

"It would appear we're about to find out."

Smoke and debris obscured Samara's vision but the radar on the commando's omni-tools painted a clear enough picture. Their target was single figure with a humanoid heat signature moving on foot, judging from the slow and steadiness of its pace. It didn't take long for the target's silhouette to come into view through the smoke and dust. Samara squinted, able to make out the outlines of armor and a rifle in the target's hand. A very old rifle with countless scotch marks dotted around its frame. Samara lowered her barrier as the faded yellow of the target's armor began to stand out among the gray of no man's land.

"Identify yourself!" Commander Inara exclaimed. Her assault rifle aimed straight at the approaching target's heart.

"Commander, lower your weapons, this is no threat," Samara said.

"How do you know for sure?" the Commander asked, her eyes not leaving the silhouette.

"If I were a threat Jessie would have shot your narrow blue asses right between the eyes. She's a bloodthirsty bitch, after all."

"Zaeed Massani," Samara identified, immediately recognizing his guttural voice tainted by how many decades worth of cigarettes and cigars.

The mercenary veteran emerged from the rubble, his beloved assault rifle cradled in his arms, with a cigar nestled between his lips. If it weren't for the copious amount of blood and carnage that was plastered around his armor, Samara would have believed the human mercenary was in the middle of leisurely stroll on his off hours.

"Samara," Zaeed nodded. "Should have known these goddamn bastards weren't enough to send you to the grave."

"The same can be said of you," Samara said, approaching her former squad mate. "Though I am curious as to what brings you this far out from the main force."

"Bah, ever since that blast of goddamn space magic, these Reaper bastards have been cannon fodder for me and the boys. That must've gotten to those idiots' heads though. Next thing I know, they're chasing down a bunch a husks only to run into three of those mutated asari bitches."

"I see," Samara said. "How did you manage to evade them?" She had seen firsthand, both on Earth and on Lesuss, how vicious and persistent, the mutated asari were.

"I got lucky. While they were busy tearing up my squad, I found one of those M-560 Hydras lying around, figured the bastard who dropped it didn't find much use for it. I threw every damn grenade I had and fired that thing. Some of the boys were still partially alive, but given the choice of getting blown up or getting torn apart by a bunch of mutated bitches, I'd choose the former. They probably felt the same, I think. Not like they had much say in the matter anyway."

"How…noble of you, Zaeed," Samara managed.

Zaeed shrugged, either ignoring or unaware of her discomfort and confusion. "Once their ashes settled I went to regroup with the main force, but I figure I made a wrong turn somewhere. How anyone can find their way in this shit-hole now is anyone's guess."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, justicar," Inara said. "But we need to reach that beam before Reaper reinforcements arrive."

"What's with the fan club?"

"Asari Commandos," Samara said. "Shepard saved them during his run to the beam and I believe they wish to return the favor."

Zaeed spat out his cigar and reached into his belt for another. "The entire galaxy is going to shit and Shepard still finds time to play the big goddamn hero, figures."

"You are welcome to join us if you so desire, Zaeed."

"Works for me, beats having to report back to that loudmouth turian general Hackett stuck me with. Build bridges he said. Goddamn annoyance, I said."

"I am positive the admiral appreciated your honesty."

"Muttered something about disrespectful mercs, but as long as he keeps my fee, we have no problem."

"Assuming banks and credit chits are still in existence after this war," Samara said as she started the long trudge to the beam.

Zaeed scoffed behind her while the commandos fell into step. "Credits aren't the only form payment I accept."

Samara was tempted to ask what else the admiral could offer that a hardened mercenary like Zaeed would accept in lieu of credits. But as her eyes caught sight of the beam on the horizon, the question evaporated from her lips. There were far more pressing matters to concern herself with. She turned to the small group she had inadvertently formed and could not help but be reminded of her days on the Normandy hunting the Collectors. It was an odd thing to consider a suicide mission with a squad filled with unstable elements, to be one of the happier times in her long lifetime. But Samara could not deny the truth. She could not help but notice that the war had made her oddly sentimental, a characteristic that a justicar could not afford in times of war. But rather than become the distraction her masters always claimed it would be, her fond memories of the frigate and her unorthodox crew gave her a new zeal that carried her through her battles. Samara could only conclude that despite her words to Shepard of being prepared for death in this war, she wanted to live. Live to see her daughter and her former squad mates again. Live to see the peace Shepard and others had fought so long and so hard for.

It was a selfish notion, no doubt derived from her recent reunion with Falere and the Normandy crew. But she had seen what this desire to see loved ones had done for Shepard. Perhaps in this one instance, she would allow herself this selfish wish. The pristine beam loomed over them and only legions of Reapers stood in their way of peace.

By the Justicar Code, those obstacles would be eliminated, Samara would see to that with all her power.

"Let's move."

OOOOOOO

"Clear the hallway!" Miranda exclaimed over a storm of boots pounding on the metallic floor. Her order was met at first with surprise but the moment bystanders caught sight of her sprinting down the hall with four medics and two marines at her heels carrying a stretcher, they quickly complied. It also helped that the body they carried was Commander James Shepard, the biggest VIP in the galaxy, and it was her job to ensure he made off the Crucible. And she always did damn good work. But Shepard was not her only priority. Despite the evacuation being ninety-five percent complete, as she scanned the hallway she still saw a good deal of scientists and researchers drumming away on datapads or omnitools, a final attempt to save their data, if Miranda had to guess.

She rushed passed a group of salarian scientists discussing how to properly contain their dark matter samples. The former operative could barely hide her frustration. Were they not aware how close the Crucible was to releasing its energy?

"What the hell are you six doing?" she shouted over her shoulder, startling the group of scientists out of their discussion.

"These dark energy samples need proper containment and we need to copy these files Ms. Lawson," the first salarian said. "With the right tools we can-"

"Forget about that!" Miranda said, allowing the stretcher to pass her, and rushed over to them. "Get to an escape shuttle _now."_

"You don't understand!" the second exclaimed. "Working on the Crucible, we've made a significant breakthrough for dark energy applications. We can't afford to just leave it behind to become space dust."

Miranda took a breath resisting the urge to just knock out the six of them and drag them to the nearest escape shuttle. It would save their lives, but cause them to forever resent the former Cerberus Operative who dragged them kicking and screaming from their precious research. The last thing she needed was more people who held a grudge against her. That line could already span a good portion of the galaxy.

"I do understand," Miranda said as gently as she could. A struggle she hoped was not too evident on her face. "You've done something most people said would be impossible and you're afraid if you don't save every scrap of data, you won't be able to replicate it. Believe me; I've gone through the same thing with most of my projects."

"That why we have to stay until we know for sure the data has been replicated to our omni-tools," the third salarian said, already going back to work. Miranda glanced down at the progress bar and saw the data was only at twelve percent completion with about hour until it was finished. They didn't have an hour.

Miranda pulled his wrist away from the tool. "But is it really worth your lives? The breakthrough you've made here is notable, but it's replaceable. Are you really willing to give up the chance to see your children grow? Or see the peace you've had a hand in making, all for row of code on an omni-tool?"

The salarians glanced at each other, digesting her words. Miranda could not resist tapping her foot against the floor. She wished that the much touted "quick minds of the salarians" would come to a conclusion a bit faster. Neither the Reapers nor the Crucible was going to wait for them to come to such an obvious decision. Thankfully, the six deactivated their onmi-tools.

"Which way to the nearest shuttle Ms. Lawson?" the first salarian asked.

"An asari frigate is helping to evacuate some scientists on the third deck. If you hurry you'll be able to catch them," Miranda said. "I'll radio ahead and let them know you're on your way."

"Thank you, Ms. Lawson, my brothers and I won't forget this."

Miranda watched them scamper away with an odd feeling of satisfaction building within her. Despite her affection for Shepard, she had often been critical of his habit of going off mission parameters to help random bystanders, such as an asari who lost a locket, or scrounging the Citadel for a credit chit to spare a quarian girl the harassment of an irate volus. But seeing those grateful smiles on the faces of the salarians gave her something she couldn't describe.

A sudden rumbling of the floor and the sight of several cracks streaming across the ceiling broke the operative out of her altruistic thoughts. She would have to play psychoanalyst on herself another time. Miranda flipped on the display monitor on her onmi-tool for a status on the Crucible.

The core had reached seventy-five percent maximum input.

Miranda grimaced. They had less time than she thought. She watched as around the hallway thirty to fifty scientists, technicians, and other personnel scrambling to save as much equipment and data as they could. Meanwhile, Harbinger and thirty other Reapers were hammering away at the Crucible, despite Sword's best efforts to keep them occupied. At this rate the Crucible would reach one hundred percent input capacity with some of its crew still inside. And when it fired…there wouldn't even be a hair or scale left for their next of kin to bury.

Firing the turrets mounted on the Crucible had bought them some time by firing back the pent up Reaper energy. But the input was far greater than the output. By Miranda's calculations at most they had thirty minutes. Thirty minutes, how much could be done in thirty minutes?

"Ms. Lawson," the asari doctor behind her said. "We have a problem!"

"What is it?"

"The geth ship originally planned to extract Commander Shepard was caught in that last blast from the Reapers. But Councilor Quentius has made contact offering one of his ships for extraction. He's sent a message saying 'to make up for past failures.' Does that mean anything to you ma'am?"

"Quite a bit actually," Miranda said. "What kind of ship? How many will it be able to fit?"

"A frigate is all he can afford to send ma'am," the doctor replied. "He said that he needs the rest of his ships to cover the eventual retreat. The ship is fully staffed. Only the medical station has enough room for Commander Shepard and the doctors you have assigned to his care ma'am."

Miranda could only nod. "Go with the Commander then. Make sure he stays alive."

"But, what about you ma'am?"

Miranda's fingers already flew to her omni-tool communicator. "There's still a good portion of the Crucible staff still aboard. I can't leave until I make sure they all make it out safely."

"But ma'am…."

"This is not a discussion doctor!" Miranda snapped. "Go now and make sure Commander Shepard gets the proper medical care, do you understand? I'll join you at the rendezvous point if I am able. Now go!"

The asari nodded dejectedly. "Yes ma'am."

Miranda could only watch as the asari and the rest of the medical team took hold of the stretcher and approached the airlock. Her eyes were caught on Shepard who was as still as a corpse. She could not deny the part of her that wished to be at his side till the very end. She wanted to watch over every aspect of the transfer to ensure that everything went smoothly. But she would not be able to look at Shepard in his eyes and tell him that she left hundreds of people here to die while she played nurse. He would never forgive her. And she would never forgive herself either.

A notification tone chimed on her omni-tool, signifying that the access port was connected. The air lock door slid open and Miranda stole one last glance at Commander James Shepard before he disappeared behind the doors. At the very least, he was safe. Miranda took a breath before activating her communicator.

"This is Miranda Lawson to the _Sharblu_, does anyone copy?"

Static and the distant sounds of explosions were Miranda's only reply. The operative could feel her stomach twist. The Sharblu was the ship that had docked to evacuate the scientists on the third deck. The same deck, she sent the six salarian scientists. But before her dread could fully rise, a voice hindered by the vast array of static chimed through her tool. Miranda quickly went through her settings panel to clear up the transmission.

"I repeat this is Huntress Falina, Ms. Lawson, do you copy?"

"I copy huntress," Miranda replied. There was heaviness in the huntress's voice, she noted. Her words came out in between several pants and pauses as she tried to catch her breath. Miranda could only conclude that Falina had been scrambling on the ship to keep everything together under heavy fire.

"What's your situation?" the fatigued asari said. "Ensign put out those fires immediately!"

"By my estimation there are still one hundred and thirty five Crucible staff members still on board. They need immediate extraction before the retreat is sounded."

Another powerful quake struck the deck and the cracks began to break off like a river into smaller streams. Miranda brought up the status bar for the Crucible. Eighty-six percent. They were out of time.

"I repeat, the remaining staff needs immediate extraction! There are whole families here!"

"I understand Ms. Lawson, but the _Sharblu_ is under heavy fire!" Falina said. "We've lingered an extra nine minutes to pick up six more salarians and got hammered! We can't wait for another one hundred and thirty!"

Miranda let out a grunt. That was expected. "Very well. Get your crew to safety."

"Rodger that and good luck Ms. Lawson."

The transmission flickered out, leaving Miranda with a sense of dread that only seemed to be growing with each passing moment.

"Damn it, we're cutting it too close," Miranda said under her breath as she attempted another hail. But an incoming transmission cut her attempts short.

"This is Admiral Hackett," the aged soldier's voice rang out through every onmi-tool and transmitter on the Crucible and ships within Sword. "All ships, the Crucible is about to fire. I am ordering a full retreat to the nearest mass relay! I repeat, all ships fall back immediately!"

_Shit!_ Miranda wanted to cry out, but clamped down on her lips, nearly biting through the flesh in the glanced over at the crew members still scrambling, several with children in tow. Within their eyes Miranda could see the growing fear. She saw them increase their grip on their parents. She saw the parents' attempts at reassuring platitudes to console their children. Platitudes that they themselves did not believe.

Miranda gripped the sides of her skull as if trying to keep her brain together. There had to be a way. Shepard could always find a way, she could too.

"This is Miranda Lawson," she said into her communicator, hoping her fear did not dip into her voice. "All ships, there are still some stragglers aboard the Crucible. We need immediate extraction before the retreat."

Through the static countless commanders stated their regrets that they could not afford to swing back for them. Either they were under too much fire, too far away to reach them, not enough space, or it would leave them vulnerable. Miranda slammed her fist into the wall. But it was as she expected. In the grand scheme of things what were they compared to the rest of the galaxy? No captain would risk their ships and their crew to save former Cerberus operatives and no name scientists. Their deaths would be deemed as a necessary sacrifice to end the Reaper threat once and for all. If they were mentioned in the history vids at all. No, in truth the ninety-five percent evacuation would be held up front and center for all to see. That would be what future generations would remember. Their names would be an asterisk, something glossed over in the end. She was sure Hackett would ensure they received hero funerals but that was of little comfort.

She was tempted to just switch off her communicator and just wait for the inevitable when a soft but strong voice rang out from the static.

"This is Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_; we read you Ms. Lawson and are swinging back for any stragglers aboard."

Miranda paused unable to comprehend the elder Shepard's statement at first.

"Ms. Lawson do you read?"

"Yes, I read you Rear Admiral Shepard," Miranda said quickly before the connection could fizzle out. "I'm sending you the coordinates now. Is your ship able to hold all one hundred and thirty five passengers?"

"It'll be a tight fit," Admiral Shepard said. "But we'll make it work."

"Thank you Admiral," was all Miranda could say though she wished she had more than such an empty phrase to offer the courageous elder Shepard.

"All part of the job, Ms. Lawson."

As the connection ended, Miranda could only chuckle under her breath. She had never been one to believe such things, but it seemed the higher powers had a very odd sense of humor. She only hoped that whatever so-called higher power was watching them wasn't as fickle as she had always been lead to believe. She connected her communicator into every speaker on the Crucible; no one was going to be left behind on her watch.

"This is Miranda Lawson, to all Crucible staff members; the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ is en route for our extraction. Reaper fire is heavy and the retreat has been sounded, we do not have time to linger. Your lives and the lives of any family members aboard are your priory, leave everything else behind. Stay on this frequency for further instruction. If we stick together and keep our heads, we will live to see the end of this nightmare. Stand strong and more importantly, stand together."

She ended the transmission and could only hope that Shepard's habit of pulling off the impossible had rubbed off on her as well. She opened the progress bar for the Crucible core.

Ninety two percent.

Scratch that, she didn't need Shepard's luck.

She needed a bloody miracle.

OOOOOO

The much touted beam was just as monstrous at close-range as it was from a distance. Under different circumstances, Samara noted, the beam would have been a marvel of science and engineering. Not only was the energy of the beam somehow self sustaining without aid from any mass effect field but the sheer precision of the energy as it shot upwards without disturbing the environment around it would baffle even the most advanced minds in the galaxy. The source of the energy was also impossible to know. In all likelihood it derived from a Reaper but using what kind of equipment? And how were the Reapers able to control it? Samara had never been one for technical matters; however she surmised that any life form would wish to become an engineer if they stared at this structure for far too long.

But all it took was a single glance at the ocean of corpses that laid in the wake of the beam to be reminded of the true purpose of this miraculous technology. Samara had been on battlefields countless times before but the carnage that was presented to her went far beyond any of her past experiences. The ground was slick with the blood of the countless soldiers. Damaged equipment, thrashed Mako trucks, and hundreds upon thousands of limbs and other remains littered the battlefield. The wide open eyes of the few intact soldiers stared up at the justicar, their final shriek of fear, permanently etched onto their faces. The burning odor of inflamed bodies already consumed the air. The remaining heat from Harbinger's beam made the temperature skyrocket to almost rainforest like levels. From behind, the justicar could hear the commandos shift in discomfort from the sudden climate change.

The slow burning light of the beam beckoned them like the famous "light at the end of the tunnel" cliché. Samara could only hypothesize that the Reapers intentionally invoked that notion when building this structure.

"Well we're here, we just gonna stand around admiring the artwork?" Zaeed said.

Commander Inara glared at the mercenary. "That is no way to speak to a justicar, human."

"You want to teach me the proper respect, be my guest," Zaeed said with a shrug. "I could use the work out."

"Enough," Samara said. "Zaeed is correct, we must keep moving."

"What are your orders then, justicar?"

Samara glanced around the area. There were no barricades, surveillance, or guards. In all likelihood after the failed attack on the beam, the Reapers must have assumed that Earth's forces would not be foolish enough to waste more resources on another assault. And with the Crucible in place, the Reapers were focusing their attention on destroying it as quickly as possible. Still if the beam was indeed connected to the Reapers as Samara assumed, their presence would quickly become known. From the distance she saw a small squad of krogan soldiers circled around the perimeter of the beam. Had a krogan battlemaster gone up as well? Either way, more allies were always a welcome sight.

"Zaeed and I will enter the beam," Samara said. "We will keep in contact for as long as we are able. I fear if all of us make the attempt, the Reapers will see it as another assault and bring their full force back here. Commander, I want you to make contact with the krogan stationed near the perimeter. You will cover our flank and will be our reinforcements should the situation grow dire."

Commander Inara nodded and made sure her weapon was loaded with thermal clips. Samara turned to Zaeed who appeared to be doing the same.

"Are you ready, Zaeed?"

The mercenary scoffed. "Do you even need to ask?"

"No, I suppose I don't."

Without another word the two approached the monstrous beacon.

It was time to end this war.


	7. Destruction (Phase 4)

I'll Find You

Chapter 7: Destruction (Phase 4)

Ashley Williams stood in front of the memorial wall on the third deck of the Normandy. The wall was one of the numerous add-ons provided during the _Normandy_'s retrofitting during its six months grounded on Earth. The wall had been added at the insistence of Joker and with the support of Admiral Anderson. Apparently during the Collector mission, the mutated protheans had abducted the entire crew save for the snarky pilot. EDI had taken over all of the ship's functions in the interim, but to Joker it had been a very hollow feeling. The pilot had noted that if the ship was taken down during the mission, if was ever found, there would be no indicator of the people who had served on it. And with the Reapers looming, it had been a valid concern to Admiral Anderson as well.

Ashley increased her grip on the rectangular name plaque in her hands as she read over the names already placed on the wall. Several, like Charles Pressley, were crew members of the original Normandy who had perished during the first Collector attack. And a few others, like Kaiden, were squad mates who had fallen during their adventurers. And like the memorial wall on the Citadel, the list seemed to be growing almost every day. Ashley looked over some of the names and was ashamed to admit that she did not know several of them as well as she should have.

Mordin Solus, she had heard from Garrus and Liara, sacrificed himself to provide the genophage cure. Ashley would have never imagined a salarian doing that for the krogan. But on this ship, anything was possible. Garrus had also noted, with a sad chuckle, that Mordin had been the "very model of a scientist salarian", whatever that meant.

She had met Thane Krios during her time held up in Huerta Memorial Hospital. From what she could tell, he had been the quiet type. But they had shared a few conversations during their physical therapy classes. In some ways he was a bit awkward when it came to conversing, but Ashley could tell he was trying. When Cerberus came blasting into the hospital, the terminally ill drell sprang into action and Ashley saw where his true talent lied. Ashley had hoped to thank the skilled drell for giving her the time she needed to help patients escape and holding off the assault long enough for her to aid the council. But that bastard Kai Leng put an end to that idea. Ashley was glad she had been present to witness that slimy bastard get gutted by Shepard at least.

The latest name they had added, the geth Legion, Ashley had very mixed feelings about. On the one hand, geth in general just made her skin crawl. Especially after Eden Prime. When Shepard had first introduced the crew to Legion, Ashley had to resist the urge to empty an entire assault rifle clip into its torso. But at the same time, she could not deny the sacrifice it had made on Rannoch in the name of peace and the future of its, or rather _his_ people. The fact that it had been Tali who placed his name said it all.

And just a few moments ago, they had just placed the newest name, Admiral David Anderson. When Shepard had her and Garrus evacuated from the battlefield on the _Normandy_, Ashley had no intention of staying on the sidelines. The second the frigate had broken the atmosphere, she had demanded Garrus take her straight to the medical bay for Chakwas to patch them up and return to Earth. She had ordered EDI to keep the life signs of the soldiers of Hammer squad on display throughout the ship.

But her wounds had been far worse than Chakwas could imagine. Even after the doctor had filled her up with most of their medi-gel and given her almost every pain killer imaginable, Ashley still felt like she was on fire. Garrus hadn't been in any better shape.

They could only watch as one-by-one the life signs of Hammer squad were obliterated, leaving only Shepard and Anderson. When both their tracers revealed they had made it up the beam, Ashley had been ready to join to them, wounds and debilitating pain be damned. Despite her enthusiasm, her body at the time just was not up to the task. Dr. Chakwas had even threatened to sedate her if she didn't agree to stay in bed.

Still, Ashley would have preferred to be completely numb and sedated rather than calm and lucid when she saw the pulse monitor of Admiral Anderson drop to nothing.

That agonizing sharp note had echoed throughout the ship, giving everyone a long moment's pause in disbelief. Admiral David Anderson, the Normandy's first captain, the most fervent support of Commander Shepard, and one Earth's greatest heroes, was dead.

Not too long after, Shepard's life signs disappeared completely. No drop in his pulse or heart rate. He had just vanished.

_That_ had gotten Ashley out of bed.

The only thing that had stopped her from kicking down the door to the cockpit and turning the frigate around to find Shepard was the light show that had followed the commander's disappearance. The bright pristine light that had ignited from the Crucible had been both beautiful and horrifying as it slowly consumed all in its path. A few ships had tried to escape, including theirs but no escape was possible. The white light had engulfed them, sending the Normandy's instruments haywire.

Joker had tried to wrest some type of control from the ship but to no avail. Ashley had heard the crippled pilot frantically calling out to EDI for help, but the AI was non-responsive. Her new body had just sat there, her bright observant eyes now cold and empty. Before the crew knew it they had entered FTL speed with no planned destination. All Ashley knew was that they were heading far from the battle and Shepard.

Ashley had no idea how long they had drifted or how long they had wrestled with the instruments before Joker brought them in for a crash landing on an unknown planet. She was no tech expert but from what she had heard from Joker, Tali, Adams, Traynor, Donnelly, and Daniels, it was pretty bad. No long-range communication, weapons were offline, stealth drive shot, propulsion and flight stability heavily damaged.

But as Ashley stood before the memorial wall, all of that just seemed as far away as Earth was. The second human specter looked down on the next name they were about to add to the wall.

Commander James Anthony Shepard.

Ashley traced the letters engraved on the plaque and took a breath. The rest of the crew stood behind her in solemn silence as she finally approached the wall. This was it. He was really gone this time. Ashley could remember the first time they lost Shepard and the downward spiral she found herself trapped in afterwards. She had been lost, without hope, without faith. And now even with all that they had accomplished, she feared that it was all destined to happen again as soon she placed his name on the wall. She wondered just what the Alliance would do for a funeral this time around; once again they didn't have a body.

Ashley froze.

No body.

The simple phrase repeated itself over and over in her head at FTL speed it seemed like. Shepard's life signs didn't drop suddenly like Anderson's, his tracer had simply vanished. Conventional wisdom would dictate that perhaps it just got obliterated along with Shepard when whatever the Crucible fired had been released. But if that were true, rather than vanishing, the signal would have disconnected completely.

Maybe wherever Shepard ended up, his signal was blocked or disrupted. He could be trapped under debris somewhere back on Earth. Either way they didn't know for sure. Ashley couldn't count the amount of times some lunatic had declared Shepard dead during combat only for the skipper to get back up and kick his ass. She herself had lost faith in Shepard before and look how well that turned out.

Ashley gripped the plaque, unwilling to move forward.

It was slim reasoning, most likely derived from her attachment to the commander. Even if they managed to fix the ship and get back to Earth, what would be left to find? A mangled nearly unrecognizable corpse that used to be Commander Shepard?

Even so, shouldn't she cling to hope, however small? If nothing else by finding him or his body, Ashley would have the closure she needed to move forward once and for all.

She looked down again at the plaque and lowered it to her sides with a small smile.

It wasn't time to say goodbye. Not yet.

"Ashley…?" Liara said gently behind her. "Are you…or rather is this too difficult for you?"

"We'll give you your space if that's what you need," Garrus suggested.

Ashley turned to face them. "I want this bird in the air in the next few hours."

"For what purpose, dare I ask?" Garrus said, but from his eyes, he already knew the answer.

"We're going back."

OOOOOO

Admiral Hackett stared at the various status reports, progress bars, and map displays that kept popping up on his command screen. With each new report the sweat building underneath his ever-present cap grew. Hackett turned away from the screens to stare out the window of the command deck. The reports only confirmed what he already knew to be true. They were running out of time.

He had already sounded the retreat but since then only a good thirty five percent of their forces had managed to arrive at the rendezvous point. The Reapers seemed adamant on making sure that no ship escaped the inevitable destruction of the Crucible and the Citadel. And with both structures at ninety-five percent maximum input, it would seem they were about to succeed. Hackett gripped the sides of his desk, trying his best to hide his grimace. If laying down his life was required to put an end to this nightmare, so be it. He was a soldier; he had learned how to die a long time ago. But there were many in their forces who were not. And despite their declarations that they were willing to put down their lives, Hackett knew the truth. In truth, their non-military personnel were hoping to get out of this mess alive. And Hackett wasn't about to let them get blown into nothingness.

"Increase intensity on the Crucible turrets!" he ordered.

"But sir," an ensign said. "Won't that cut down on the built up energy the Crucible has been collecting?"

"I'm aware of that ensign," Hackett said with a nod. "But we need to give our ships more time to escape. Aim for the Reapers in pursuit of escaping ships and signal any remaining fighters to form a perimeter. If any Reaper force approaches blow them out of the sky."

"Yes sir!"

"Admiral Hackett sir, we have reports that the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ has broken off from the retreat and is swinging back to the Crucible!"

This time the admiral's frown was on full display. "Patch me through to Rear Admiral Shepard immediately."

"Patching her through now sir, I can only give you audio however."

"It'll do, ensign."

"Rear Admiral Shepard reporting."

"Rear Admiral, what is the meaning of this?" Hackett said, wasting no time. "We need as many dreadnaughts as we can to cover the retreat."

"There are still a few stragglers on the Crucible; we're going back for them."

"How many?"

"One hundred and thirty five."

Hackett shook his head. "It's too big of a risk. The Reapers will overtake your position in minutes."

"Well then I guess that means we'll have to evacuate them in seconds."

"Hannah….!"

"Steven, don't," Hannah said. "It's what James and Anthony would do."

Hackett let out a sigh. Blind heroics must run in the Shepard blood. "Very well. I'll try to give you as much cover fire as I can. But I can only give you twenty minutes, not a second more. This thing is going to blow one way or another."

"I understand. Thank you admiral."

"Godspeed Rear Admiral Shepard. Hackett out."

Hackett clasped his hands behind his back and returned to the command screens. Outside his viewing monitor, the abyss of space lit up once more with the florescent light of the turrets. The rumbling of the recoil felt like a small tremor on the station. Hackett witnessed the white bolts of the turrets tear through the Reaper's armor while the ships of Sword entered FTL speed to reach the rendezvous point.

The aged veteran took a breath, seeing the Kilimanjaro bank and slowly make its way back to the Crucible. He glanced down at the input meter.

It had dropped to eighty-two percent.

An alert notification from his screen indicated that four Reapers were heading their way in response to their cover fire. It wouldn't take long before the input increased once more.

They were playing a dangerous game.

But one way or another, it would end today.

OOOOO

The trip up the beam had been one of the most unusual experiences of Samara's long lifetime. It was a strange sensation of both falling and flying at the same time. She had forced her eyes shut due to the overwhelming light that assaulted her. When she reached the top, or what felt like the top, the beam hurled her from its structure forcing the justicar to her knees. Samara shook her head several times before standing to clear any dizziness that lingered. Seconds later a chorus of grunting and cursing reached her ears, indicating that Zaeed had successfully made it up as well.

"Hell of an elevator," the mercenary muttered, using Jesse to prop himself to his feet.

"Indeed," Samara said, looking over their new surroundings. Save for a faded red light, this portion of the Citadel was pitch black. The justicar flared up her biotics to provide further illumination, allowing her and her companion to witness the countless corpses that lay before them. Samara's feeling of dread only increased as she watched the keepers move through the seemingly endless trail of death in their path.

"Fuck!" Zaeed exclaimed. "Is this the Citadel or a goddamn slaughterhouse?"

"We may be witnessing the true purpose of the Citadel," Samara noted. "If the commander still lingers here, I fear for his safety."

Zaeed growled before firing off an incendiary shot at a nearby keeper, killing it instantly. "Fucking abominations."

"Save your ammo, Zaeed," Samara said. "We do not know what further evil remains here. We must be cautious."

"Let's just find the Boy Scout and get the hell out of here. I'm gonna need some krogan ryncol after this."

"I fear escaping may prove to be rather difficult," Samara said. "Judging from these bodies, the Reapers did not build this structure with exits in mind."

"So it's a one way trip?" Zaeed spat. "Fine with me, I'll just make my own goddamn exit."

Samara nodded and began the trudge down the walkway. Zaeed activated the torch function on his rifle, allowing Samara to save her biotic energy. Despite the bodies and the keepers, the walk was strangely straight forward and uneventful. Samara had expected hordes of Reaper defenses impeding their path. Perhaps the Reapers were so confident that no being would it make it this far that they did not feel the need for defenses?

However, as they followed the path, the more Samara picked up on the sounds of gunfire and the screeching of the mutated asari she had encounter prior. The aged asari removed her assault rifle from her shoulder and activated it to its full length. She signaled to Zaeed that they needed to double their pace. The mercenary nodded and the two jogged the remaining distance, not sure what they would find.

But Samara was sure that she would not like the results.

OOOOOO

Jacob had long since run out of thermal clips. And his energy for biotics was dwindling as well. But despite all that, the former Cerberus operative somehow managed to keep his barrier active and provide Grunt with some biotic support as he tore through the human-reaper's reinforcements. The tank-bred krogan had run out of ammo as well, but that didn't seem to stop him at all. He rushed down the center roaring all the way, the hail of bullets and biotic attacks did not seem to register. He grabbed the first cannibal within reach and hurled it down the path, knocking into the banshee in the rear. The krogan hammered away at the remaining cannaibals, his short, yet strong arms, knocking the monsters off the path and into the abyss below.

The krogan slammed headfirst into the human-reaper hybrid, knocking the monster back several inches. The creature, undeterred by the krogan, swung its massive claws into the assaulting Grunt. But the tank bred caught the attack. But with his arms busy, Grunt had no defense against the double biotic attack by the two banshees. The young krogan soared through the air and slammed back into the control panel. The cannibals increased their fire on the krogan as they closed the distance between them.

Jacob quickly stood in front of Grunt and biotically grabbed at least five cannibals. The human thrust his arms forward, sending the monsters flying back down the platform. The action took the notice of the mutated turians who began hammering the human with fire. Instantly, Jacob's barrier went up, but the strain from the constant use had weakened him. It only took a few shots before his barrier failed and the bullets began to pierce his jumpsuit. Jacob dropped to his knees, his shields failing quickly.

Grunt rose and activated his fortification. The blue hue absorbed and deflected the attacks, but it could not stand up to another banshee blast. In seconds, Grunt was lying next to Jacob, struggling to rise again.

Jacob tried to do the same, but a gunshot wound on his side told him otherwise. Jacob dragged himself near the still body of Admiral Anderson and let out a pained groan as he made himself sit up. Jacob glanced down at his onmi-tool at the status of the Crucible's core.

Seventy-nine percent.

Jacob wanted to panic and wonder what went wrong. But it didn't seem to matter. Either way it was over. He saw Grunt finally rise, but his knees were weak. Blood, his own and his enemies, covered his body. And despite his active blood rage, the krogan's steps were getting weaker. He took a step forward only to drop to a knee.

The mutated monsters all aimed their weapons at the two former Normandy shipmates.

"_**This was the inevitable conclusion, human!**_" the Reaper hybrid exclaimed. "_**THERE IS ONLY THE CYCLE!**_"

Jacob gritted his teeth and forced himself to rise. He glared into the former Illusive Man and raised his middle finger as high as he could. "Just shut the fuck up, and let me die already."

"_**AS YOU WISH, HUMAN!" **_

Jacob shut his eyes and awaited the deafening sounds of gunfire.

But instead he heard the deafening sound of a widespread explosion.

The inferno blast knocked the human off his feet, making him slide into Grunt. Fire consumed a good portion of the cannibals and marauders, causing a panic amongst the mutated species. Azure blue engulfed the two brutes, forcing them off the ground and hurling them into the banshees. Both monsters tumbled down off the platform. Another inferno grenade consumed the platform burning what was left of the cannibals into ashes. Jacob heard the sound of rapid fire from two assault rifles digging into the remaining reaper-human hybrid. He glanced at Grunt who seemed just as taken aback.

The monster whirled around to face its new opponents only to be trapped in a powerful stasis field. Jacob, with Grunt's help, rose to his feet and saw their rescuers stroll down the platform.

"Well it would seem we arrived just when we were needed," Samara said in her typical tranquil manner. "What does that make us, Zaeed?"

"Big goddamn heroes!"

"So it would appear."

The aging mercenary tossed his final inferno grenade into the stasis field, igniting the monster trapped inside. Jacob could not look away as the former Illusive Man thrashed within the small entrapment. The beast's constant motion only helped to expand and spread the flame throughout its mutated body.

"Grunt, Jacob," Zaeed called. "Catch, finish the freaky bastard."

When Jacob saw several thermal clips slide across the floor to his feet, both he and Grunt scrambled for them and reloaded their weapons with an intense fervor. The moment Samara dropped the stasis field, Jacob, Grunt, and Zaeed all unloaded what was left in their respective weapons. The combination of incendiary ammo and Zaeed's inferno grenade burned through the hybrid's armor-like skin. A screech that almost made Jacob's ears bleed exploded from the creature's mouth as it struggled against the fire slowly consuming it.

It only a few seconds, what was left of its armored skin had burned away, leaving only charred flesh. The monster dropped to all fours, the eyes of the Illusive Man trapped in an expression of disbelief before finally withering away to ash.

A vague outline was all that remained.

Jacob dropped his gun and would have collapsed as well had Grunt not grabbed his shoulder.

It was over…and they were alive.

Zaeed nodded at them. "You two look like shit."

Grunt rolled his shoulders, doing his best to hide his more serve injuries. "Ah, nothing a huge bottle of ryncol can't fix."

"You read my mind junior."

Samara glanced at Anderson's body before turning to Jacob. "Where is the commander?"

"We got him out a while back. He's with Miranda and her team," he answered in between winces. "Now we gotta get the hell out of here!"

"Shit! That's right! This whole damn place is about to blow!" Grunt exclaimed, remembering the plan as well.

"Goddamn it! That's shit you tell someone beforehand!" Zaeed growled.

"Sorry, I was distracted by the giant human-reaper-thingy in my way!" Grunt shot back.

"Jacob, how much time do we have?" Samara asked.

Jacob activated his omni-tool and brought up the input percentage. Eighty-five percent, it read. And it rose with each passing moment. "Not a lot."

"That shiny blue beam is our best chance out of here," Grunt said.

"It may be only be a one-way trip you know," Zaeed said.

Jacob glanced at the meter again. Eighty-eight percent. "We don't have time to look for anything else. We're making for the beam now!"

"Let's hope our run for the beam is better than Hammer squad's," Zaeed said.

"Heh, I'm always up for more things to shoot," Grunt said, though his slower steps said otherwise.

Jacob was ready to fall in step when he glanced behind him at Admiral Anderson's body. Time was short. They had only a few minutes left before the station went up to smoke. And yet to leave his body alone in this place, seemed like a dishonor to the recently departed soldier. Dead or alive, Anderson deserved a better fate than to be left behind.

"Wait!" he called out to the small group. Despite his injures and fatigue, Jacob managed to hoist the deceased admiral onto his shoulders. "We're taking him too!"

"You want to take a bloody corpse with us?" Zaeed said. "He's literally dead weight!"

"I don't care," Jacob declared. "I'm not going to let the Admiral get blown to hell with the rest of these abominations!"

"Time is short Zaeed," Samara reminded him. "We do not have the luxury of a debate."

Zaeed shrugged. "Fine, bring the corpse. I ain't bloody carrying him though that's for sure."

"Let's move."

One last run, one last push and it would all be over. Jacob gritted his teeth and willed his body to move forward.

He had no intention of tripping at the finish line.

AN: Was watching a few episodes of "Firefly", "Game of Thrones" and "Breaking Bad" while writing this up. It really shows in certain areas. But hey, a few shout-outs never hurt any story. Thanks for reading, hope to see you for the next chapter.


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